Distance
by Radiorox
Summary: Part 2 of "Into Emptiness" - Read that one first. Nightmares are making Mac lose control. A chance encounter makes her cross paths with Harm again who has vowed not to let her go this time.
1. It's A Nightmare

**DISTANCE**

_Well, I've been holding on too long_

_Too far gone, too hard to reach us_

_Turning right, turning wrong_

_Could've been a hundred reasons_

_I don't know how we got lost_

_I don't know how we get back_

_We're too far gone, don't wanna feel this_

_Distance between us._

"Distance" by Nicki Romero

Welcome to INTO EMPTINESS PART 2 - Distance. This too will be a little dark at first but, HM will find each other fairly quickly. Mac has a lot of things to work through.

So, I've been posting JAG fanfiction for a long time, I am always up for reviews as they are a source of amusement. Now, for all of the "experts" as to what the agency can and can't do, take this story as a trip into a James Bond or one of them equally BS espionage films - it's bullshit.

The mind control and repercussions from it sooth my love of angst. This is written for my personal enjoyment. Don't take things seriously, it's a fictional story.

And this isn't a story about the CIA. It's about Mac sacrificing herself for Harm. And someone said Harm was being a pansy, eh well... the woman he loves is kinda scary at the moment and he doesn't know what to do about it and he feels guilty.

Nuff said... on with the show... hang on through this chapter. And a promise and reminder - This story, in JAG timeline would be laaaate Sesson 10 if not season 11 - Mac and Webb were NEVER together nor will they be... got that? Good... Ugh make the hives stop.

**CHAPTER 1 - It's A Nightmare**

_Tell Me It's a Nightmare_

_Tell me how we got here_

_I see you, but you're not there_

_Tried to save ya, warn ya, keep you alive_

_Tried to stop ya, but you paid the price_

"It's A Nightmare" by Kim Petras.

Screams. Someone was screaming. A man, Mac deduced from the deeper tone of the guttural sounds that echoed in the vast expanse of the warehouse she was walking through. Carefully, she moved through the space, each move calculated as she traversed the rusty catwalk that seemed it could crumble at anytime. It led to an office at the far end of the building and when the screams sounded again along with the sounds of an electric current, Mac produced her weapon.

The catwalk swirled in front of her, vision tunneling when the office got inexplicably closer as if it were shot out at her. A haze was cast over the area that turned into a thick fog and she stepped closer to the office. It was difficult to see inside and then the fog lifted just as quickly as it had appeared.

That's where she found him hanging from the rafters by chains that were wrapped around his wrists. Only the tips of his toes touched the floor and the clothing he'd been wearing was ripped to shreds. Rivulets of blood were dripping from his bare feet to the concrete floor.

Casually leaning against a desk was Sadik Fahd holding a remote unit that he used to drop Harm's unconscious body to the ground with a sickening thud. "If you don't shoot your _lover_, Sarah, the torture will continue."

As if her arm had a mind of its own she raised the weapon up, training it on Harm. "I'm so sorry." And then she shot.

… … … … … … … … …

"No!" Sarah MacKenzie sprung up in bed, heart hammering so hard against her chest she was sure she was having a heart attack. _Oh God, please make it stop._ The nightmares were becoming an evil, unrelenting norm in her life disrupting many nights of sleep. It was always the same and so vivid it seemed real.

As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, Mac noticed she was not alone. Next to her was a man who reached out and rubbed her arm soothingly. "Harm?"

"No, not quite." She squinted when the man sat up and turned on the lamp on the nightstand. No, it wasn't Harm, she was in the bed with one Clayton Webb.

Mac looked around, her head aching as she glanced at the unfamiliar bedroom with furniture of dark wood against dark red walls. Everything reeked of opulence and expense down to the dark, heavy curtains and the paintings that hung neatly. "Clay, where am I?"

"My place." He ran a hand down her back in a seductive way that made her flinch. "My bed."

She felt her stomach clench and her mouth filled with saliva as wave of nausea crashed over her. The way Clay spoke, they way he'd touched her held an air of intimacy as if they'd… _No, we couldn't have_…. She couldn't have betrayed _him_ that way. After that last night at the Ritz, she swore there wouldn't be any other. Mac swallowed down the bile that rose at her throat and gripped the bed sheets beneath her until her knuckles went white. "Oh God, did we?"

The hand at her back slowed its motion and went on to draw circles that made her skin crawl. She had never had any designs about entertaining any type of relationship with Clayton Webb and the fact that she… that they… "Did we?" She asked the question with more force.

"Yes and it was wonderful." Clay said, giving her a devious grin when her head snapped to face him. "Wonderful, earth shattering. You said things to me that would make a sailor blush." He dropped his hand from her back and sat up, leaning against the headboard. "You don't remember?"

The wave of nausea ebbed, flowed and then subsided when she noticed that his grin widened. _Son of a bitch. _"You're messing with me."

"Yeah, I am and you deserved it after last night."

"Last night?" A fresh wave of nausea had Mac laying down again. What had she done last night? Oh right, the team had gone to a bar near Langley. She had tried to get out of the invitation but, one of the new recruits had practically begged Mac to join. She had a drink which turned to two and then… her memory went hazy.

"Can't remember a damned thing?" Clay asked and when she shook her head, his look of concern grew. "I'm not surprised. You drank most of the men under the table." He joked although it really wasn't a laughing matter when Mac had stumbled out of the bar intent on driving home until she found her Corvette had been taken, towed because the only spot left had forced her to double park. "Your car got towed, I brought you here… You passed out."

"I did what?" Mac pressed a hand to her forehead and squeezed hoping to rid herself of the hangover that had begun to manifest itself. Her mouth was watery and yet so sticky with saliva that she tried to swallow down but seemed to catch in her dry throat. She felt like she had the flu and when her body shifted to right herself the room did as well. It spun and Mac squeezed her eyes shut to stop the revolution which only amplified once her eyes opened again.

_Oh God, what have I done?_ It hit her full force when Mac raised her head and tried to focus on some god awful painting Webb had in his room. That's when she felt her stomach lurch. "Crap, I'm gonna hurl." She raced to the bathroom, finding it only because he had left the door open. Barely managing to make it to the toilet, her stomach violently emptied it's contents.

Webb followed, waiting until there was nothing but dry heaves as he leaned against the door frame and watched her. "Better?"

"Ugh." She leaned against the wall and brought her knees up to her chest, the movement exposing her legs from under the simple black dress she wore. Webb had taken a washcloth from under the sink and wet it, offering it to Mac. "Thank you." She said, taking the cloth to rub it over her face and drape it at the back of her neck. The cool cloth helped calm the hangover for the moment but, she knew the rest of the day would be hell.

"So do you always dream about Rabb?" The sudden question had been plaguing him since he heard Mac utter Harm's name in a dream. From her thrashing he could tell it was a nightmare of sorts and try as he might, she wouldn't wake up. It was another nail in the coffin of a relationship he would never have with her - not that Webb expected her to fall into his arms. She and Harm were disgustingly made for each other.

"Rabb?" The mention of The Commander's name made her veins run cold. Jesus, had she spoken her dream out loud? "What? What about The Commander?"

"You kept calling his name. Can't really tell what you were dreaming but, his name you said clearly." And in a tortured voice of sorts as if something was wrong. He'd never seen anyone so affected in a dream state. "What was it about? The dream?"

"Same as it always is... torture." She leaned her head back against the wall and sighed. God, she would give anything to stop the nightmares that plagued her almost every night. Mac had tried different methods to dispel them, sleeping medication, therapy but found that alcohol was the only thing that helped dull the night terrors. Drinking made them infrequent and easier for her to wake from a dreamless sleep. "He was being tortured and I was given a choice to watch or put him out of his misery."

Mac made the sign of a gun with her fingers which she pointed at Webb. "I always shoot. _Always_ and then I wake up."

After Paraguay Webb had similiar nightmares ranging from his own torture to that of Mac's. It had taken a year for them to become a memory but, from time to time he remembered the pain and agony. "Who's doing the torturing?"

"Sadik Fahd."

He sighed. "Mac, Langley has a lead on him. Besides, I'm pretty sure he doesn't even know Harm exists."

Webb was right, somewhat. If the terrorist was after anyone it was the two of them not The Commander. But, there was a gut feeling she couldn't shake, something of a premonition that she was being watched. What if Sadik had followed her to Toronto and seen them _together_? In her nightmares he always called Harm her _lover_, a term that made her cringe although she supposed that's all they had been - _lovers_ \- for the few days she'd been with him.

Mac closed her eyes and as usual, the vision would come when she thought of _him_. His hands running down her skin. His kisses that could be both loving and passionate. His words, spoken when they last made love. _'I love you, Sarah.' _It made her shiver and she felt that specific headache start to drum at her temple bringing her back to the present. _'There will never be an us.'_ It was a constant fight to keep herself in check. She was losing the battle.

"Why don't you hop in the shower? There's an extra toothbrush in the cabinet and I have a pair of sweats you can borrow." He motioned towards the living room. "I'll put on a pot of coffee and make you something to eat. You're too thin." Clay noted with a frown.

"Yeah. Thanks Clay."

…….. ……

"You should talk to him." Webb said once eggs and toast were placed in front of Mac who was wearing sweats that were entirely too big on her. She seemed to be swallowed by the garments and in the light shining from the sun that had finally risen, Webb could really notice the difference in her. There were circles under her eyes and a pallor to her skin that could have easily been blamed on her bender the night before but it wasn't the cause.

"I have nothing to say to him." Mac had pushed around her food drinking only two cups of coffee and eating a few bites of the toast. She wasn't hungry and needed to get back to the sanctuary of her home where she could try to put herself back together. Unfortunately, she was at the mercy of Clay who had been waiting for the impound lot to open in order to collect her car.

"You're miserable without him." He nearly cringed when Mac leveled him with a look that could kill. However, as he'd made himself her handler again, it left very little room for argument. He decided her missions and assignments which, as of late forced him to see just how lost she'd become.

When Mac had been ordered to kill, she'd done so without remorse, slipping into some sort of persona that had, frankly, scared him. In his years with the agency he had encountered that level of dedication with two agents, neither of which lived long enough to see them come out of the CIA branded brainwashing called EDT - Emotional Detachment Technique. With Mac, it had been almost effortless and needed to keep her alive when the assignments got a little dicey. Now, he regretted the order, the suggestion for her to see Dr. Guiterrez. "The Doc is going to put in a request to get you out of field duty, you need a break."

"I thought my sessions were confidential?"

"Not when you're a spy." And not when the spy was starting to lose their grip. He'd seen it in her last assignment that sent Mac to Madagascar. When reports came in of her beating someone nearly to death after her handgun refused to fire. She'd done it to save herself but, continued to beat the subject even when the man lay on the ground incapacitated. Since then, the woman had been something of a wreck and only he knew how badly she was hiding the parts of her that were falling apart.

Webb had been made deputy director of the CIA, a job given to him more because of his family linage than any of his past work. Truth was, he was horrible at his job with much more disastrous than successful assignments. He was good at putting things together, running the logistical side - he was good at giving the orders even when he knew someone would die as a result. At least, as the new deputy director, he could watch over Mac and become her handler again.

It was under his directive that she had assisted at the Farm for a few weeks. Her expertise on the field combined with her hand to hand combat skills and linguostics made Mac an excellent teacher.

Webb considered making her a permanent fixture until one afternoon when he found her sitting in her car just staring out into nothingness. She had been reprimanded, a black mark attached to her record for practically attacking a recruit. Mac had stated that it was a means to toughen up the prospect but, the instructors debrief on the incident was the description of someone who had checked out. She was unseeing, unhearing and her unnecessary violence resulted in the recruit spending two weeks in the infirmary.

And then there was the day they went out to dinner at a fancy restaurant, an escape Clay thought that she needed and, maybe a means to become something else to her. She had dressed elegantly and looked so much like her old self until they bumped into Bobbi Latham who, of course, had to ask her about Rabb. Mac had tried to remain herself, professional, icy but she excused herself and disappeared into the bathroom for over half an hour. When she came back out, Clay noticed the running mascara, the puffy eyes of a woman that had recently been crying. He had driven her home after she claimed to come down with a touch of the flu.

Mac had been running like a finely tuned machine after her near death experience at the hands of a Russian mobster. She was perfect, flawless and executed her work professionally… until Toronto. The change had begun after Webb had made contact with Rabb in hopes of locating Mac and trying to find how the Phonebook had been stolen and by whom.

She was different after that, out of control in ways that frightened him because he could no longer reign her in, no one could. "Something happened between you and Rabb in Toronto?"

It was a statement more than a question and he had seen it in the way she looked at him as they were being attended to by the medical team in Cloutier estate. The pair had always communicated without words, something that Webb found equally frustrating and fascinating.

Their link, a bond between two people that were clearly meant for each other had been obliterated when offered Mac an unorthodox way to save Harm's career and his life. He never thought it would turn her into a monster or that her connection to Harm would be the one thing that would shake her resolve so much. It made him hurt for her. "Your control is slipping...Hell it's gone completely off the deep end, hasn't it?"

"No, it hasn't." Yet, it was and Mac knew it. The therapy sessions were no longer working and neither was her coping mechanism. She hated to admit that it was the Commander's doing but, there was no other reason for the lapses, the changes.

"Does he still come by your place?"

Mac shook her head. "He stopped over two months ago." Although she really didn't know why. For a moment it seemed he would never stop searching for her - the man was stubborn that way. "Hopefully he just gave up."

"When did you start drinking?" There was a specific scent coming off of her, the type when too much alcohol had been consumed. She had been hiding her addiction for a while now, burying the scent with expensive perfumes and that sweet smelling shampoo she liked to use.

"You drink too." She motioned to the small bar in the corner made up of heavily polished table with varying bottles of liquor and the appropriate glass for each drink. The few times Mac had come to his apartment, Webb was always drinking, always had a glass of something or other in his hand. Flor de Cana had been his drink of choice after Paraguay although Mac never understood why he wanted to associate himself with that wretched mission by ingesting something that reminded him so much about his torture.

"I'm not an alcoholic."

_Alcoholic_. The word stung more than Mac would care to admit although the look in her face said enough. He had hit a nerve, a raw one, a past that she'd tried to distance herself from and yet would come at her full force. She would have slapped him if she had the strength. "You bastard."

"You're spiralling out of control."

Mac took a breath. She wasn't losing it, couldn't be although deep inside she knew it was true. Something was off, more than off, it was a casom that she couldn't quite pull herself out of. Oh, but those dreams - nightmares - were preventing any restorative sleep that could right the fragments of her mind. It was always The Commander and Sadik, always her pulling the trigger to kill. _Always_. She scoffed at the thought knowing full well that many months prior she would have done anything to rid herself of Harmon Rabb, Junior. And now…_ 'I love you, Sarah.'_

She gritted her teeth and brought her hands up to the sides of her head squeezing roughly. "I don't dream when I drink enough. I just pass out." What she found odd was that Harm had just vanished in a way. His calls, the visits had stopped so suddenly. "Clay, what if I've killed him?"

"Rabb?" Clay stopped her hands when Mac buried her fingers through the silky strands of her hair and pulled. "Stop that...Look, he knew what he was getting into when he went looking for you in Paraguay...You can't blame yourself for that."

"I never should have gone." She voiced what had always been fact, the mistake that she'd made for reasons that Mac couldn't quite understand. Why had she gone? Why had she left him right when he left the brig and needed her the most? What had happened to them? They were getting close, so damned close to something good and real.

Something obliterated their happiness, friendship and his time in the brig hadn't exactly helped. He'd lied to her, kept her at arms length as his emotions made him investigate Singer and then it had all blow up in their faces. She was hurt, so damned hurt that her best friend couldn't or wouldn't confide his suspicions. And then she'd been barred access to him, ordered not to visit when he needed her the most.

Mac had failed him, them but then, so had he. "Does The Commander know about Sadik?

"No."

"What? Clay, he has to know… He might be in danger." _'There will never be an us.'_ Wouldn't it be easier to not care anymore? To _want_ his death? Only, Mac didn't want that anymore, not after they'd… God, why couldn't she just forget him? She ran her hands over her arms and tried to stop the feeling of Harm's touch. _'I love you, Sarah' _His voice had been equally sexy and sweet. "We have to warn him, that at any moment..."

"Mac, stop." Webb pressed a hand to her forearm, stopping the manic way she was looking at him. "I promised you that the agency will handle it. And they will." He hooked a finger underneath her chin and raised her head up to look at him. "Look you need a break from the exciting stuff for a while..I can get you an easy assignment, get you out of town."

"Clay…" She didn't need the easy assignments. Mac craved the adrenaline rush, the possibility of death that loomed when an assignment went out of context.

"Mac, even I get downtime… It allows you to reset"

"I'll think about it." But, she didn't want to, not really because not being in the field with the adrenaline pumping through her veins made her uncomfortably aware of how lost she was without _him_. When she was in a fight or under cover, pretending to be someone she wasn't, Mac was more at ease and devastatingly lethal. She had a penchant for the brand of justice that they allowed her to dish out which is why Webb had needed her to coach some of the recruits at the Farm, the more promising ones that needed and extra edge. "Take me home?"

……...

It would be several hours later when Mac was, mercifully, in the confines of her apartment in Georgetown. She always loved the space, the warm, earth-tone colours. The fireplace that she would light even in the summer to bring out the cozy feel of her home. It had been her sanctuary for so long, a place to refresh, reboot and come back to herself. The moment she locked the door behind her, Mac began to remove Webb's sweats, leaving a trail of clothing that began in her living room and ended somewhere near the bathroom.

Completely naked she stood on the tiled bathroom floor eyeing her bathtub with longing.

Mac had always loved baths, the feel of warm, scented water coconing her skin. It eased her stress and any ache and pain over her body. She loved to lay in the tub until the water was cold and then wrap herself in a fluffy robe and just relax. It was therapeutic.

Now even that simple pleasure had been taken away and it had been her own doing...

The last time was in Montreal when she sunk into the opulent clawfoot tub before she left him. Mac had hoped the scented water would erase the memory of his skin on hers, the smell of _him_. It hadn't. The feel of the water on her body had only intensified her senses, stimulated her already sensitive skin. Every inch of her that he'd kissed, licked, nibbled felt more on fire than before as the memory of her consummate lover, who took more pleasure in pleasing her, kept her erotically in tune. Oh, how her body surrendered to his although she'd once fought against it, or tried to.

The last time they'd been intimate was a goodbye of sorts and she couldn't stop herself from being loved by him just one more time and then another._ 'I love you, Sarah.'_

"Stop it, MacKenzie!" She chastised and stepped into the tub, turning the shower as painfully hot as it would go. It burned her skin and Mac stood under the scalding water until she could feel no more. In the past, she had a whole routine after bathing, a skin care treatment that protected her body from the elements, that drying effect of Winter. Now, she merely slid into her fluffy robe and stepped into the living room plopping down on the end of her sofa next to the side table where a half-empty bottle of bourbon sat waiting.

It was never her drink, especially not this brand, _his_ brand. Her father could never afford the good stuff so it was the bottom shelf kind of vodka that a young Sarah MacKenzie indulged in. The harsh tasting liquor left the nastiest of hangovers with headaches that seemed to stretch out for days. Joe MacKenzie was never physically abusive to his daughter save for that one night where he'd caught her filling a half empty bottle of vodka with water. He smelled the remnants of the alcohol on her and she paid with a hard slap that had Mac careening against the kitchen table and falling to the floor.

She'd curled up into a ball, making herself look small and fragile but her father loomed over, belt in hand, its leather striking over her olive skin until it had drawn blood. Only Joe hadn't punished her because she'd taken his liquor, he was afraid for her, of the woman that would likely follow her father's footsteps. Rather that speak supportive words, he dished his brand of punishment the only way he knew how, with hurtful words that would leave scars on Mac's soul. Scars that would last until the day she took her last breath.

_Tramp. Whore._

And that is exactly what she had become, hadn't she? A whore for the CIA.

Worst of all, Mac enjoyed it and the carnage she was allowed to dish out. Joe MacKenzie's whore daughter. And she'd tried so damned hard to leave that past behind.

Angrily, Mac brushed away the tears she hadn't known she'd been crying. That was the other thing, another chink in her now crumbling armor - the crying. Why was she thinking about her father anyway? It had been years, at least three since she thought of Joe MacKenzie or her mother. Some things needed to be forgotten, buried and she'd managed to regin that part of her life into submission, or so she thought.

With a sigh, Mac reached over to the bottle and poured herself two fingers worth of the amber liquid into a snifter that sat just next to it. She eyed the liquor, swirled it around the glass watching as it sloshed in an undulating fashion. This was something she could control, alcoholism was just a state of mind and she'd found a balance. She didn't need to have a drink, it was just a means to relax her tumultuous thoughts.

She brought her attention away from the glass long enough to notice a flashing light on her answering machine. With a huff, she reached over, hitting the play button only to hear his voice over the line._ "Mac, it's Harm...I'm not gonna…"_ Her balled fist came down hard on the delete button like a gavel. It took two tries but she silenced the goddamned device.

"Persistent bastard. Leave me alone!" Her voice echoed in her head. And here she thought The Commander was done trying to contact her. Hell, hours ago she was concerned that he was dead. She laughed at the thought, chuckling to herself as she raised the glass of bourbon to her lips and drank the liquid down in one gulp. 'There will never be an us.'

No, she was not a damned alcoholic, Mac surmised ruefully. She just liked the silky burn down her throat, the taste and the way it seemed to reach her bloodstream relaxing her into oblivion. Maybe Clay had a point? Maybe it was time to get away, stay out of town and find something new? With a groan, she sat up, reached for the phone and dialed his familiar number. "Okay boss, what's the assignment?"


	2. Crave

The beginning of this one made me change the title to M it's a bit on the sexy side.  
No worries, folks, we are not gonna draw out the meeting between H and M on this one, they will meet in the next chapter. :)

**Chapter 2 - CRAVE.**

_"I'm coming up out of the dark_  
_Take out the bullets from my heart_  
_You are my favorite mistake_  
_The one I cave loving to make_  
_Craving, I'm craving, I crave you_  
_Waiting, I'm waiting to touch you_  
_Whenever, forever I know that_  
_Still I'm coming back_  
_Bittersweet, baby"_

"Crave" by Tove Lo

Harm heard her wince as he slammed Mac into the back of the door to his hotel room. The pain was something of an aphrodisiac as she moaned when his hand came up her thigh and grasped her six. He groaned when she hooked her fingers on the hem of his pants and pulled him impossibly closer. She grinned against his lips when her fingers brushed against him instantly and then moved upwards, fumbling with the clasp of his belt.

Harm's mouth that had been on hers had moved to a spot on her neck that offered a response. She would moan each time he kissed her there, a swirl over her pulse-point from his tongue would make Mac shiver. Christ, he couldn't get enough of the taste of her skin.

He let out a hard groan when her hand that had been trying to undo his belt had managed to unzip his slacks and grasp his cock. "Oh God, Mac." Harm's hands that had previously been running over her body ceased their movements, coming to either side of her head to brace himself as her hand worked him to a full erection. He closed his eyes, letting her deft fingers pleasure him, her hand squeezing his shaft, fingers brushed the very tip of him and it was like the woman had a road map to his body; she knew how to make him insane.

Mac's other hand ran through the hair at the back of his head as she brought his lips back to hers. She kissed him in time with her movements, sucking on his lower lip as his hips moved against her. "I need you inside me now." She demanded breathlessly and he could do nothing else but comply. It had been too long, too damned long since he'd felt her velvety depths surrounding him.

Harm brought one of his hands down her body, gripping the hem of the little black dress she wore. His hand went under the silky fabric touching her thigh, sliding up to her hip. He chuckled a her impatient groan as he tried to tease her. "Patience, Marine." Without warning, one hand moved off her hip and cupped her mound finding her panties drenched. "Damn, your wet."

"I've been since the cab ride." She admitted with a sigh. "I can't deny what you do to me if I tried. Oh…" Mac let out a shaky breath when his fingers shifted the fabric to move back and forth over her moist lips. "Harm, please."

"Please what, Mac?" His breath was ragged and his voice was thick with desire. Harm wanted to draw out her passion for as long as possible but, when her hand began to stroke him again, his control slipped. His fingers dipped inside her and he had to physically keep her upright when the sensation made her legs buckle.

"Please… I want you inside me. _Now_." He tore away her panties and was inside her with one hard thrust. She gasped at the feeling and bit down on his shoulder when he began to pump into her. She kissed his lips slowly, savoring the taste of him on her lips. Her hands slipped over his chest and under his sports jacket gripping his shoulders when Harm began to thrust harder into her. "God yes."

"Open your eyes Mac." He wanted her to see what she did to him and understand that she had branded him for all time. Harm was hers, irrevocably hers.

But when her eyes opened and met his, Harm didn't see the molten chocolate depths. Her eyes were black, absolutely unseeing. "Tell me you love me." He asked, practically begging for the words he needed to hear from her. Instead, an evil grin spread across her beautiful lips and he felt his heart crack inside of his chest. "Tell me you love me, please Sarah."

"I don't. There will never be an us." As she said the words, he started to feel her disappear, her body that was once so real against his own faded and vanished leaving him alone… She was gone...

"Not again." Harm flipped onto his back, his arm draping over his eyes as tried to calm his raging breath. He never dreamt anymore but, when he did it was always about her. For a time it seems the dreams of Mac were subsiding, eventually disappearing when he had taken Chegwidden's offer of a new billet and the promotion that came with it.

Living in London was a fresh start, a new life that Harm didn't realize he needed. He'd been incredibly busy for the first month, a newly minted Captain that had to prove himself to subordinates who were allowed to run amuck by his predecessor. It kept his mind occupied and his body too exhausted to recall the memories of his last night with _her._

At first there was a reluctance in accepting the position knowing it that going overseas would make the chances of him ever speaking to her again impossible. He wanted, no, needed to see her once more so that she would explain why she chose to leave him and what the hell her convoluted Dear John letter meant.

Turning to his side, Harm grabbed a pillow, punched it a few times and then rested his head. He dozed off for a couple of minutes only for his eyes to flutter open as his mind filled with images of them together at her houseboat. "Please. Stop!" He said out loud, willing his subconscious under control.

Why did she have to be so beautiful? Why did she have to mold to him so well, as if they were made for each other? She seemed to fit him and it wasn't physical, it was everything. She had a certain tone of voice she used for him - soft, sexy. He'd caught onto it early on when their partnership at JAG began. The timbre made him shiver as he recalled a cool spring night so many years ago. "You have someone that loves you."

But she didn't really love him did she?

Not the way that he loved her. She couldn't else she wouldn't have gone on to almost marry Brumby. She wouldn't have left to Paraguay, wouldn't have…_'There will never be an us.'_

_NEVER._

She had been clear and he'd stubbornly chased after, even when his anger over the situation almost forced him to give up.

If Mac loved him she wouldn't have ruthlessly slept with him and then disappeared leaving that stupid letter that, for a time, was his last link to her. He had carried around the note in his breast pocket, the paper which smelled of her. It was in a fit of rage that he shoved the letter into the shredder in JAG HQ on his final day in Washington and then spent hours finding each strip of paper to tape it back together.

He just couldn't let her go.

"Ugh." Harm had never been so hard up over a woman but, then again, he'd never been in love before. And that there was the crux of it all, the one inescapable truth of the matter - he was unequivocally, irrevocably in love with her.

How the hell he'd fallen so hard, so deeply was still a mystery to him. He'd always guarded his heart, never fully committed to anyone, vowed not to feel the agonizing pain of separation that his mother had. Even the past women in his life that he could of had a future with Harm had found a way to sabotage the relationship and move on.

Diane had been the only woman he'd held an obsession over but then, it was all about revenge not love. He wasn't in love with her, something Harm realized when Dalton put the moves on Mac and an enraged jealousy burned inside.

He'd always been attracted to Mac. Besides appealing looks there was so much more to the Marine that enticed him. No one else would have gone to the ends of the Earth for him like she had. No one else tamed his irrational temperament when his emotions took control. He only kept her at arms length because of an incorrect belief that their turmoil was nothing more than an unresolved sexual tension. That proved to be untrue. Being intimate with her only fortified his feelings, cemented the truth he'd kept hidden. He'd finally let go believing it would save her and bring her back to him. 'I love you, Sarah' And yet, it wasn't enough.

When he woke up in that hotel room four months ago, Harm foolishly believed everything would be alright. He had sat up in bed, eyes adjusting to the sliver of light that emanated from the bathroom door as he called her name. He followed the light to learn she'd left the door ajar on purpose - it made it easier for him to find that goddamned letter.

He read it once, gripping the edge of the vanity as each of the words sank in. She had left him again and the pain of heartache threatened to end him.

This wasn't like Paraguay when he'd been too jealous, too pissed off and relished the anger. No, this time it hurt. Harm realized how hard up he'd become over her.

"Hard up?" He scoffed at the thought. No, he was straight up pining for her.

The only thing that kept him sane was work, which he'd thrust himself into as his coping mechanism. He'd spent hours in the office and on investigations, avoided their friends that could only wonder what had happened. He took advantage of every unwanted TAD, anything to keep his mind occupied and off of her her.

When he was in Washington, he stalked her apartment and banged on her door until the neighbors called the police. Harm knew she was home and no begging or pleading could coax Mac out of her haven.

And then there were the messages from seventeen calls that were never returned and were likely deleted once she heard his voice over the line. He knew getting her back home would be close to impossible but could not imagine that Mac could cut him off so easily. Not after they made love and he felt her unquestionable surrender.

And she had surrendered, if only for a moment. Mac didn't have to say the words with a verbal affirmation of love because he saw it in her eyes. In those rare, unguarded moments when she'd lain with him and asked - no, begged - for him to make love to her slowly. He had complied and they held each other's gaze as they moved in time.

Harm didn't need the words from her because deep inside he knew Mac loved him. She had to because the belief that she didn't, was too much of a crushing blow.

But, why had she left? What had happened between their time in her boathouse and the night at the Ritz?

Why had she left that letter that barely made sense? Had he done something wrong?

Was he pining over a woman that really didn't want him? Was it just sex?

And why was he dreaming of her so vividly? Why couldn't his mind just cut him a break and let him rest?

The dreams began a few weeks after he arrived in London. A product, he knew, of his attempt to find someone new, to feel something more than confusion and anger. He had ventured to the London Eye, curious to see the city from a different perspective. Inside the capsule he'd met an Italian woman - Gabrielle - with hazel eyes and shoulder length dark blonde hair. She was lovely, sweet with the kind of physical appearance that turned heads.

They'd hit it off immediately and once their trip on the over sized Ferris wheel ended, she had joined him for an early dinner. Gabrielle was a botanist who, like Harm, had become a recent London resident. She was smart, funny and extremely attractive. Furthermore, she was impressed by his background, the military jet pilot who was now a lawyer. It was always easy for him to land most women in bed without really trying. His looks coupled with his occupation as a military officer would practically make women salivate and he had enjoyed the attention.

After dinner, Harm had walked Gabrielle home and wasn't surprised when she asked him up for coffee. He knew he shouldn't have gone but, there was no point in denying the attractive woman when he was clearly single. They were sitting on her sofa, Gabrielle impossibly close so that her knee touched his. She prepared the coffee for him, chatted about mundane subjects and then, she kissed him.

Harm had indulged in her, the soft womanly skin that pressed against him. He pushed her into the sofa, his body covering hers as basic desire took over. It was when Gabrielle's hand went to his belt that Harm stiffened and pulled away as if he was burnt. "I'm sorry." He said, running off into the night without explanation.

That night the dreams of her began.

Vivid and caustic, they haunted him for days at a time. Some were just memories of her or them. Others, left him painfully aware of just how bad he craved her and it was driving him insane.

Harm couldn't shake the feeling that he'd betrayed her somehow even though he hadn't slept with Gabrielle. What did it matter if he did? He was single, there was no commitment of any type between him and Mac.

Then why couldn't he just move on?

With a groan, he got out of bed and dug through his drawers finding his running clothes. Yes, a good hard run would ease his wandering mind and get him ready for the day.

Before leaving, Harm sat at the edge of the bed and opened the nightstand drawer, reaching in to pull out her letter. The tape had held most of it together save for a few edges and a spot in the middle that he just couldn't find. No matter, he committed her words to memory and ached at the thought that it was penned by her hand.

_Harm,_

_I wish I could stay. I wish I could find a way to make this right between us but, I can't_

_Let me go. I beg of you._

_I made a choice and have to live with the consequences - we both do._

_I'm much too broken to fix, please don't try._

_Let me go._

_I'm sorry_

_-Mac_

He sighed and shoved the letter back into the drawer, shutting it closed just a little too forcefully._ 'There will never be an us.'_ Fueled by rage, he headed out beginning a loop around the sleeping city that he knew was at least ten miles long. He kept a hard pace, enough so that when returned home he would collapse into bed and get some needed, dreamless sleep.


	3. Mind Over Matter

Harm and Mac meet again... things will be a bit bumpy for a few more chapters and then... well there will be some sweet scenes... Hang in there dear readers.

**Chapter 3 - Mind Over Matter**

_So just trust me, you'll be just fine_.

I_ need your trust just for tonight._

_This is not a place in my head,_

_Reach out your hands and tell me just what you feel._

_This is not just all in your head,_

_Mind over matter makes these things feel so real._

"Mind Over Matter" by Pvris

A lively waltz was being played by a full orchestra, the music washing over the guests that moved along the recently installed parquet flooring of the ballroom. Located just outside of London, a lavish mansion had been selected to host an event for both the British and US Navy. It was all pomp and circumstance, a way for big wigs to rub elbows with bigger wigs.

Harm despised every moment of it.

In actuality, he hated the events and the need to wear mess dress which was easiest his least favorite of military attire. The formal wear was cumbersome, had too many layers, was a bitch to put together and arrange the tiny medals.

He was leaning against the rear wall nursing a glass of whiskey and staring out into the crowd. The younger officers under his command had been eyeing him all evening likely wondering why he was there alone. Harm was certain most of them thought he was gay what with the way he'd avoided no less than seven women that evening. Normally, he would have danced with any woman that offered, saving the last dance for Mac.

She'd been the only one that made these stupid affairs tolerable. Just the notion that he would have her in his arms as they slowly moved across the dance floor, made him ache for simpler times.

One of his officers had tried to pry and Harm quickly dispelled the questions as to his love life. No there was no wedding ring, no girlfriend back home and he was far too busy to entertain a woman. While he was a good and fair commanding officer, he was also tough and unfriendly. It wasn't that he was trying to be a jerk but, the folly of command was getting too personal with your staff and he wasn't going down that path.

He still kept in touch with his former colleagues in Washington, regarding them much more like family than friends. They were the only constant left in his life, the last link to Mac although they knew better than to mention her in conversation. It was little AJ that always, _always_ asked about her and it tore Harm's heart to tell him that he didn't know.

"Captain, you seem fairly annoyed by the evening." He grinned when his British counterpart, Captain William Grant stepped up next to him. While they weren't exactly friends, Harm and Will did enjoy a pint or two of beer at a local pub from time to time.

"Well…" The sudden charge in the air cut his words short and the hair at the nape of his neck was on edge. He felt the involuntary rush of air out of his lungs and every sinew of his body tingled. As if on autopilot, his body turned slightly, just enough so that he could spot her across the room.

The ocean of dancers parted and that's when he realized that his search was over - Sarah MacKenzie had entered his life again.

Her hair was short, slicked back and with little diamonds placed strategically over the brown strands. She had on a shimmery navy blue dress with an open back that dipped just a few inches above her backside. The dress had a slit that came up to mid thigh and when she turned, he saw the front that had similar diamonds placed around.

He saw the marks on her shoulder from the surgery to repair ligaments and noticed that she didn't bother trying to cover it up. Those scars were a badge of sorts, something she wore with honor.

She smiled politely when other guests acknowledged her but was never drawn into any type of lengthy conversation. Instead, she kept a few feet behind a young blonde woman that he knew to be the daughter of Britain's version of the SECNAV.

Will followed Harm's gaze, taking in the tall, sexy brunet that seemed to captivate the Captain. "Well she's a looker."

"That she is." Harm said with a sigh, his eyes still following Mac's movements.

"Wouldn't mind tearing off that dress and fucking her senseless for several hours, am I right?" Will's words brought Harm out of his trance and within seconds he pulled the man into a small room and slammed him unto the nearest wall. "Rabb, what the…"

Harm's hand went around Will's throat, his fingers digging in deeply. "_That_ woman is a _US Marine_. She can probably kill you with her pinky and one hand tied behind her back. Don't you _ever_ disrespect her or any other woman again, am I clear?" He released the other man at once.

When Harm returned to the ballroom he began to look for her, weaving through the crowd only to find that Mac had gone. It was when he stepped out to the terrace that he found a lone, female figure walking slowly down the walkway of the gardens. He wanted to call our to her but, fear of her running kept him from doing so. Instead, he hurried across the terrace, aiming to follow.

A familiar headache began ever so faintly when Mac stepped foot into the ballroom. It was distinct and a warning that the man she'd managed to avoid for four months was near. She cursed herself and him making no effort to seek him out through the crowd, merely continued her current assignment. She hoped he would leave before she was spotted only minutes later she felt the heat of his gaze over her skin, like a lovers caress.

It made her ache for him, if just for the briefest of moments when she faltered, heart rate speeding up at the thought of just seeing the Commander again. Mac sighed heavily, maybe there was such a thing as fate? Maybe the man just had a knack for finding her? _Shit_.

"I'm sorry Ms. Laughery, spaced out for a moment." Once Mac came out of her thoughts she found Stephanie Laughery, the young woman she was guarding, hanging off the arm of a US Navy Ensign. She had been warned about the woman's promiscuity and fast paced lifestyle and in the last few weeks Mac had seen enough to make her cringe.

Despite her drunken stupors and stealing cars with Chris, Mac's youth was relatively mild compared to Stephanie. The woman lived between parties, alcohol and drugs without a care in the World that someone had threatened to kill her.

"That will be all, Colonel. You can find me in about an hour...Make it two." Stephanie giggled when the ensign kissed a spot on her neck. Mac nodded when the young woman dismissed her as if she were a servant. Being told to watch but not interfere, she merely watched when the woman disappeared with the sailor.

Youth. Mac thought rolling her eyes at the mundane assignment that was anything but. In the last two weeks she'd stopped a stalker and some deranged ecofriend all without Stephanie being aware. With a heavy sigh, she grabbed a glass of champagne and stepped out onto the terrace.

She shivered slightly once the cooler evening air brushed over her skin making it raise with goosebumps. Mac downed the champagne in two gulps, then placing the empty glass on the ledge of the small wall she was leaning against.

Her heart began racing again, the pressure in her head causing an ache to increase so rapidly her flight response kicked in. She went down the stone steps of the terrace and weaved her way down a long, gravel path that ended at a gazebo adorned with tiny white lights.

It bathed the structure in an ethereal glow and gave Mac a little sense of peace. She settled into the wooden bench situated at a corner and balled her hands into fists that she flexed and released over and over.

Mac sensed him before he stepped into the structure. A gentle wind carrying the scent of his cologne which she inhaled deeply. She stood then and moved deeper into the gazebo to the only shadowed area which the lights couldn't reach.

That's where Harm found her, standing in a dark corner with her arms wrapped around her middle. The dress hugged her body and he noticed with worry that Mac had lost some weight. He opened his mouth to say something and quickly shut it when the words failed him.

His fingers longed to touch her and see if her skin was still as soft as it had been. Swallowing hard he made to approach only to find that Mac was shivering. Harm made quick work of his jacket and carefully draped it over her shoulders. "Sarah."

"Comm…" She stopped a moment, noting the four stripes on his epaulets that signified a change in rank. Mac reached up and touched the shoulder board unable to suppress a smile. "_Captain_." She would have to change her mantra now that he was no longer a Commander. "Congratulations."

"Thank you." He said simply and came to her side making sure not to touch her. Harm could feel an odd sort of tension from her and he was afraid of making any big moves that might set her off. Instead he turned and leaned against the railing glancing back up the path to the mansion. "So, your cover. Who are you tonight?"

"Lt. Colonel Sarah MacKenzie."

Harm grins. "Ah."

"Sounds familiar?"

He shrugged. "Knew her once, we worked together at JAG for nine years. Level headed, fair, tough as nails…" He trailed off and turned to face her. "Devastatingly sexy."

When he stepped towards her, Mac took two steps away. "Commander… Captain, stop." Captain. He was a Captain now, her mantra needed to change._ 'There will never be an us.'_

"Why are you with Devlin Laughery's daughter?"

It was Webb's idea of a break from the field and a favor for CIA Director Angela Laughery who wanted someone trusted to take care of her daughter. Mac had always been on the shortlist. "Mr. Laughery and the new CIA director Angela Laughery's daughter, you mean."

"You're on her security detail."

Mac nodded. "I co-lead it."

"They made a good choice. Plus, it keeps you out of trouble." Unable to stop himself, I reached out to touch her only Mac moved away before he could. "You left me without warning, with some stupid letter and I'm still trying to figure out why. What did I do wrong?"

"Harm, don't."

"Oh, it's Harm now is it?"

Mac's breath hitched once he stepped directly in front of her. The headache began to drum so painfully she nearly brought her hands up to squeeze the sides of her head._ 'There will never be an us.'_

His movements were slow and measured. When she took a step back, he slid forward until Mac was backed into a corner with no chance at escape. When he was a mere breath away, his eyes locked on her lips and an overwhelming sense to kiss her made Harm dip his head down.

Just a mere breath away, he felt her hands press firmly against his chest stopping him. Harm's hands came up, wrapping around her wrists, fingertips pressing into her pulse points to find it racing beneath her delicate skin. "Why did you leave, Sarah?"

Why indeed. "I don't love you." Mac blurted out keeping her eyes cast down as she knew he'd read the truth in them that she wasn't able to admit to herself. "It was _just_ sex, can't you see that?"

"Then why is your pulse racing?" His fingers pressed a little harder into her wrists when she made no effort to pull away. "Why is your skin flushed?" His voice had dropped down to a seductive timbre as his fingers released some of its hold and brushed lightly over her wrists. The action made Mac's breath hitch and she couldn't mistake the involuntary way her body reacted to his. "Why did your breath catch when I touched you?" She's also closed her eyes and her lips parted as if she wanted him to kiss her but, Harm didn't sensing a hesitation. "Why won't you look me in the eye?"

"Harm, please. Don't do this to me." She was begging, hoping he would stop his words and leave her alone. Yet, Mac couldn't will herself to pull out of his grasp and her palms spread over his chest, feeling his own heart hammering underneath her palm. It conflicted with everything the agency shrink had attempted again, to reign down on the control that had faltered in Canada. She had been given a new set of tools to keep that steely professionalism and he had destroyed it with just one touch.

"You can't deny this, you can't deny us."

Mac let out a breath she was holding. She hated that he could make her feel so much with just a simple touch but then she has never been the same since the first time they made love. She had practiced what it would be like when she saw him again - it was inevitable that they would. In her mind it was an icy hatred and now, having him this close was dizzying. She closed her eyes and moved her hands up to his shoulders to steady herself when the headache threatened to split her skull in two.

"I can't be with you and work for them and I resent you for it." The words came out before she could stop herself and a war of sorts raged within. The woman in her wanted this, wanted him. She could practically taste his lips in hers, a sweet sin that banished all her scars if just for a moment.

"When I have you on my mind I… I regret my decisions, resent you in a way that it had to come to this… I've killed people for them… I'm not the woman you knew anymore."

The Marine in her, the CIA officer than ran on zero emotions formulated the right things to say to back him off. She clung to that side of herself and the safety of the darkness. "And I don't love you." He released her at once, stepping back when Mac shot him another blow. "It was just sex. Good sex but, just sex. A means to an end."

_'Just sex.'_ Only it wasn't to him and it wasn't to her either. Harm sensed her surrender back at the houseboat, a look in her eyes that made him believe. Nevertheless, her words hurt as did the knowledge that she'd gone out with Webb. "Is that why the agency allows its officers to date the Deputy Director? Because it's_ 'just sex'_." He said with air quotes unable to keep the jealous tone out of his voice.

Mac snorted at his comment. "It always amuses me how much of a high school Washington is." She rolled her eyes and took two steps towards him. "I am not, will not or have I ever dated Clayton Webb." The idea made her cringe. "We went to dinner, _once_. Just once." And she was miserable the entire time, drowning herself in an obscenely priced bottle of bordeaux.

"Dinner. At the Plaza. You sat by the window and Clayton took you home after. I got all the nasty details."

"From whom?"

"A gentleman never tells."

Mac thought back to the finer points of that night and the one person who would have spoken to him. "Bobbi, of course...Not that I need to explain myself to you, but your little spy left out the part where I sent Clayton home."

"Why didn't you just answer my calls, Mac? I left 17 messages...You didn't even come to my wetting down at McMurphys and I know you were in town."

"Spying on me Captain?"

He had been or tried to only Mac was too good at evasion. "You changed your locks."

"Yeah, seems like a certain former Commander kept breaking in."

Harm frowned. In a way he had become something of a stalker, unhealthy trying to find where she could have gone and why she avoided him. "I'm sorry about that. I needed answers."

"Wasn't my letter answer enough?"

"No." All it did was confuse him more. "Back in Toronto, the houseboat… I thought I saw something in your eyes." And when she looked at him then, there was the same look, a combination of love and longing. It lasted for a few seconds and then disappeared as if was never there. "Maybe I've lost my mind?"

"Maybe you have?" Maybe they both had? Which is why she allowed his hands to come to her waist and wrap around to draw her closer.

"Harm?" Her breath caught again and she couldn't stop the involuntary shiver when his warm hand came under his jacket to caress the bare skin of her back. His head came down towards hers and Mac tried to stop him with words when her body leaned into him. "I don't love you."

"Yes, you do. I know you do." Despite his aching heart, Harm's lips came over hers. He kissed her slowly, deeply groaning when her tongue played with his own.

Mac practically clung to him as they shared a kiss that reminisced that of a cool, spring evening outside the Admiral's porch. Only this was much more passionate, much more complete without any sense of impropriety. He moved forward guiding her against a stone beam of the gazebo, pressing Mac against it only to deepen the kiss further.

One hand dropped to her six, kneading gently and then dropping to the back of her thigh, uring Mac to wrap one leg around him. The movement exposed her leg as the dress' slit spilled material over her thigh. He ran his hand up and when his hand was about to touch her intimately, her leg dropped away and Mac roughly pushed him off her.

She pressed her finger to a cream coloured disc that taped over the bone behind her left ear. "MacKenzie." Mac's breath was ragged, her heart racing as orders were being spoken through the small device. "Understood. On my way."

Mac shook her head, ashamed at her actions and how badly it looked that, as one of the heads of Stephanie's detail, was busy making out with her former partner. "I'm sorry Harm. You have to let things go. Let _me_ go." She handed his jacket back to him and then made her way up the path to the home. _'There will never be an us.'_

The farther she walked the more the headache eased. She did find it curious that the hammering in her head stopped abruptly once his lips met hurts only to return when she pushed him away.

Harm remained rooted in place holding his jacket with his fingers. He watched her walk away and held back the very sense that made him want to follow. A soft grin spread across his lips. "Sarah MacKenzie is in London." Which meant that he would see her again, he'd bet his life on it.


	4. Get Out Alive

**CHAPTER 4 - Get Out Alive**

_If I stay, it won't be long__Till I'm burning on the inside__If I go, I can only hope__That I make it to the other side__If you want to get out alive__Run for your life__If you want to get out alive__Hold on for your life_

-"Get Out Alive" by Three Days Grace

Mac took a breath, straightening her spine as she pulled the handle on the doors that lead to the JAG offices in London. She felt a sense of wistfulness as her heel tapped on the linoleum flooring and visuals from a past life made her remember the simplicity of being a JAG. She loved the law, the courtroom with its musty smell combined with that of whatever oils the Navy used to polish the floors and maintain the hardwood seating.

She missed the thrill of investigations and knowing, without a shadow of a doubt that she had trumped the defense. The passion for the law made her an excellent lawyer, her prowess was what made her a lethal prosecutor. Most of all, she enjoyed going up against _him_ and the in court sparring matches that were legendary. In the end, they each wanted the same thing - to seek the truth no matter what - no matter who won or loss - it was all about the truth.

And that was the reason she found it odd that Harm had accepted a command position. Like she, the _Captain_ hated the politics that came with command, the paper pushing and the unscrupulous ways a leader often had to follow in order to keep the Navy happy. Had she stayed on board, Mac would have requested a permanent assignment to the judiciary although she'd miss the investigative side of things.

The building was relatively quiet until she arrived to the double doors that served as an entryway to the JAG offices. Inside everything came to life in the bustling offices that brought back many fond memories. She remained rooted in place, taking in the sights and sounds - the smell of coffee, toner and that moldy A/C scent that every office seemed to have. It made her smile and just as quickly, it made her sad at the life she'd given up for… what exactly?

'_There will never be an us.'_

Given everything that had happened to her in the past two years, Mac often wondered if she'd made the right decision. Keeping Harm away from the agency was one thing but, she never thought she'd be forced to give up so much. _Forced?_ Hah, that was hardly the correct term to use for her predicament, she had gone willingly and happily so.

And she would do it again, for _him_ \- a fact that she knew by heart - Mac just never realized she'd be required to give up her soul as well.

Even half a world away, some things remained the same. She walked through the busy bullpen only being stopped by a very young looking Ensign that came after her. "Ma'am, may I help you?"

She smiled at the young man that reminded her a bit of Tiner with boyish good looks and that aloof expression, the two could have been related. "Good Morning, Ensign, I'm here to see Captain Rabb."

Before the Ensign could get more out of her, Mac heard the Captain's voice echo across the bullpen. She turned to her left to see him stepping out of an office, his, she supposed with a tall and beautiful blond hanging on his every word. The woman pressed a hand to Harm's forearm and he smiled brightly at the contact. She was dressed impeccably in a pencil skirt flowy blouse and impossibly high heels. The designer clothing made Mac feel unattractive and inadequate as a woman. That was the type of girl he liked, wasn't it? The man was a magnet for blondes.

Mac had on a dark grey, pinstripe business suit with a light blue shirt that had a plunging neckline. It was aimed to be functional not sexy although the neckline had caught the eyes of a man or two. She didn't look bad, she just didn't look like the woman Harm was sharing a hearty laughter with.

At that moment, she wanted to run out of the office and crawl back home to a bottle of something or other. It had taken her almost two hours to ease the remnants of her latest hangover, something that she perfected with time. Her morning ritual now began with filling a large bowl with ice water and plunging her face into it.

While the water felt like razor blades against her skin, it awakened her body, tightened the fine lines and removed the puffiness of her eyes. She would then brew a strong pot of coffee and added a teaspoon or two of bourbon just to take the edge off. After a cold shower, Mac began a lengthy skin regimen finalized by makeup to hide her sins.

This morning, her routine began like normal until a panic attack had her nearly downing the bottle of bourbon. She managed to stop herself and avoided the drizzle she added to her coffee knowing the Captain would likely smell it on her. Not that she cared what he thought, she was just saving herself the questions he'd likely pry her with. Instead, she threw back several naproxen.

For all her trouble, Mac still felt invisible like she had each time he'd made time for another and never her. So many times, when she really needed him, Harm was unavailable choosing another woman over her.

'_There will never be an us.' _And he claimed to love her? Bullshit. The Captain was nothing more than a liar, a jerk. He wanted nothing more than sex from her and she'd let him. Her sense of insecurity fell away as her mind formulated memories that she buried. The Christmas she wanted to spend with him only to find the Captain searching his rolodex for any woman to jetset with. Any woman but her.

The time her ex came back into her life but he was too busy with a congresswoman to care. The time when he left her to fly those stupid jets of his. Insecurity was replaced with a raw kind of anger that eased her aching head. Besides, she wasn't here to play friendly with the Captain or allow him to awaken that ridiculous wantonness. This was business.

"Ma'am?" The Ensign touched Mac's shoulder which brought her out of her reverie. He smiled at her and pointed at a list of names attached to a clipboard. "Are you Lt Colonel MacKenzie?"

"I am, Ensign." The young man's smile widened and she could tell this was his first big assignment. "Not sure if the Captain is aware I was coming." It was a bit of a surprise attack after Mac made sure she looked suitable enough to see him.

"He wasn't up until an hour ago." Harm said as he walked towards her. He stifled the flyboy grin, hoping not to seem too eager that she was there. "I had Ensign West here rearrange my schedule for you, Colonel." He couldn't help his eyes from looking at her, admiring the way that suit tailored to her feminine curves.

He'd be hard pressed to find another woman who could make that outfit look so sexy. He had to actively stop himself from studying the V neck and the small heart shaped necklace that rested in between. Lord, the woman was put on Earth to make him suffer. Why hadn't he admitted his feelings to her before? Why did he ever leave JAG in the first place so many years ago? "Ensign, have Petty Officer Clark bring two mugs of coffee to my office, ASAP and hold all my calls."

"Aye, sir."

Harm pressed his hand to the small of Mac's back, a gesture that was so familiar to both of them. She felt the electricity of his touch, finding it troubling that it hadn't waned through the years. He felt it too and tampered down the want to pull Mac into his arms and pin her against the back of his office door as his lips followed the V of her blouse.

"Have a seat." He said after closing the door.

He could count on one hand how many times she was seated at a guest chair while he was behind the desk in a command position. It was always difficult for her to take him serious and vice versa. They each had a penchant for bending the rules around one another.

"Thank you." The way he was looking at her was unnerving, his eyes sexily glancing over her. She rolled her fists into balls feeling her short nails dig into her palms almost painfully. That tension kept her from falling apart and shaking from the lack of alcohol. Mac shifted in her seat and cleared her throat when she noticed his gaze had found a spot just above her breasts where a small pendant sat. "I'll make this brief." She produced two pictures out of her briefcase and slid them across the desk. "Know that man?"

Harm took the photos and glanced at them. They were of a young lieutenant, one image of him in civvies, the other a candid of the man in summer whites. "Lieutenant Cristian Shaw, one of mine." He glanced up to find her brow raised in interest, a look that he was too familiar with from the times they'd been adversaries. She was onto something. "This is work related?"

Mac nodded, "Why else would I be here?"

He bit back a frown. "Why are you here, Colonel?"

"Ms. Laughery claims he forced himself on her girlfriend." She didn't beat around the bush and Mac's voice took that prosecutorial edge that made him slightly concerned.

If she could be cold and impassive, he would play her game. "Mac, I saw her entourage at the party. Promiscuity is part of their schtick."

"Rape isn't. A woman can be promiscuous but when she says no it's no."

There was an edge to her words, cutting him like the blade of a knife. It was almost as if she were referring to him and their tryst out in Toronto. She had asked him to stop, repeatedly and Harm couldn't, not when her body moved with his. Especially not when her hands guided him where she needed. _Christ_. Harm swallowed hard, he knew her. Mac wasn't the type for idle accusations. "Enter." He said tersely when there was a knock on the door.

A young Petty Officer not unlike Coates entered with two cups of coffee. "I apologize for the delay, sir. Made a fresh pot." She placed the mugs on Harm's desk and turned to Mac. "Ma'am would you like me to bring you cream or sugar?"

"No Petty Officer, thank you."

The younger woman glanced almost lovingly at Harm and smiled. "Anything else you need, sir?"

"No. Dismissed."

Mac waited for the younger women's retreat to roll her eyes. "New disciple?"

"She's eager to please." He took the mug and stopped an inch away from his mouth. "That didn't come out right. I'm sorry."

"I know what you meant." She released the tension of her right hand, opening and closing it a few times to get the circulation flowing so that she could reach for the mug. It shook as she brought it to her lips and Mac had to use her left hand to steady it. Her actions didn't go unnoticed by Harm he just couldn't make sense of it and was afraid to ask.

"I know you. You wouldn't have come here with those accusations if you didn't have evidence. If Leutnant Shaw did what he's accused of, he will pay. You have my word."

The sincerity in his tone echoed in her mind and the headache that she tried to prevent by ingesting a heavy dose of naproxen had begun to manifest itself. It made the shaking worse causing the mug to slip out of her hands and shatter on the floor. "Shit!"

When she squatted down to pick up the broken pieces Harm was suddenly at her side, taking one of her hands in his. Mac hadn't noticed the cut on her palm until he pointed it out. "Let's clean you up." He pulled her through his office, opening a door that led to a small, private bathroom where he ushered her inside.

Carefully, he rinsed her hand and then smoothed a bandaid from a first aid kit over the cut. Mac felt the butterflies in her stomach from his touch, that electricity that made her pulse race. It battled with the headache and her mantra when her eyes met his through the mirror, his intense look making her turn away. "Mac." The way he said her name made her breath catch.

Roughly, she pulled her hand out of his grasp and pushed past him, out of the confines of the small bathroom and into his office where she found her bearings again. '_There will never be an us.'_

"You haven't been sleeping?" It was more of a statement than a question. He knew her too well and remembered how she'd hidden the insomnia with make up. Somehow, he always knew when she had a restless night.

When he took a few steps closer to her, Mac put her hand up to stop him. "I don't need your help, Captain… I came here as a courtesy call. Let your Lieutenant know that I'm onto him. And I won't stop until...until." _He's dead..._She felt the rage creeping under her skin. It would be easier to take matters into her own hands, to instil her own brand of justice.

Harm grabbed her wrist pulling her towards him, holding her tightly when Mac tried to resist. "Stand down, Colonel… That's an order." He kept his voice harsh, commanding and saw her cool professionalism slip back into place. He released her then and took a step back. "What's going on with you? This isn't you."

"You don't know a damned thing about me. You never did."

"I know we messed up, both of us did. I know I want to make it right. Stop pushing me away." Harm went to his desk and grabbed a pen. As much as he wanted her, as much as a desire for her coursed through his veins, maybe he needed to take a step back? Maybe they needed to start over again?

"We were friends once, Mac. Let's start there." He scribled his address on a post it note along with his number and handed it to her. "If you need a friend, you know where to find me."

She stared at the yellow note in her hand and balled her fingers into fist, crushing the paper. "I don't need you Captain. I never did." With that she stepped out of his office, his address still in her hand.

When she got to her car, Mac noticed her cell phone flashing signing the multiple messages she'd missed. Each one had been from Clay telling her to call him back…

...Hours later, Mac was racing through the woods, her long legs carrying her over the damp, uneven ground. Her lungs were burning and when one of her boots caught a rock with its heel, she stumbled crashing face first to the marshy terrain. The sounds of bullets whizzing by her head got her moving again despite her body's fierce complaints.

The way she was hunted was reminiscent of a time with _him_ and the poachers in the Appalachian Mountains. Only this time there was no _him_, no partner - she was very much alone. For some reason, Mac didn't fear death but continued to run anyway as something propelled her forward.

This was all part of a little investigation, a side job Clay had tasked her with when chatter of a terrorist cell two hours north of London came through the wire.

It was supposed to be all reconnaissance, evaluate and report but, with Webb, things never quite ended so simply. But then, it had been her own damn fault, the investigator in her that needed to find more had driven Mac to hidden entryway to a series of catacombs.

She carefully followed the passageway until it exited in a space that was filled with crates containing RPGs that the British Army had stolen several months prior. She took pictures of the bounty but, rather than leave, a hunch took her further in. Mac pulled out her pistol and pressed herself against the wall following the sound of voices in a separate room. That's where she found a cache of small arms and two men taking inventory, counting in Farsi.

Mac began to back up slowly, slamming into a third man. He grabbed her wrist, turning it so that she dropped the pistol she was holding. That was when her training kicked into full gear. She managed to bring her hand up, palm slamming into the bridge of his nose shattering it on contact.

And then the chase began. She ran out of the catacombs and onto the marsh, weaving through the trees as fast as possible. She needed to make it to the road and the vehicle that she'd stashed nearby.

When another bullet landed near her, Mac came down to her knees behind an overturned log. She was then able to reach into her boot, producing a small pistol and took aim at the first man to reach her.

She put two bullets into his chest and watched him fall to the ground. In the waning light she spotted the second man heading away from her and waited several minutes before rushing off again.

Finally reaching the vehicle she sped out of the area, constantly looking behind for signs of being followed. Shaky hands produced a burner phone from inside her jacket pocket and hit the redial button. "This is Widow for Spyder. Area is hot, send in a team in ASAP. "

When she arrived in London, Mac stumbled into her apartment shaking so much it took several tries to open the door. The long drive had since devoided her of the needed adrenaline making her crave something else. She drank the bourbon straight from the bottle, sighing as the warm liquid pulsed through her veins.

Walking to her fridge she saw Harm's sprawling handwriting on the crumpled piece of paper she'd taped to the surface earlier because...just because. '_We were friends once, Mac. Let's start there.'_

She gulped down more of the bourbon and the shaking all but stopped. '_If you need a friend, you know where to find me.'_

The Captain's voice kept revolving in her mind, his soft voice calling to her like a beacon in the night.


	5. Devil Side

Coming to a light in the end of Mac's tunnel...

One more chapter of some nastiness and then, I promise dear readers, our duo will get a little lovin' in. :)

They deserve it dontcha think?

**Chapter 5 - Devil Side**

_Run and hide, it's gonna be bad tonight_

_'Cause here comes your devil side_

_It's gonna ruin me_

_It's almost like, slow motion suicide_

_Watching your devil side, get between you and me._

"Devil Side" by The Foxes

Harm was dreaming again, he knew it. And this would be the first time that he was keenly aware that it was just a dream, a dream he didn't want to awaken from. Her body pressed up against his and he felt a familiar softness in her skin that he longed to lose himself in. He never wanted to wake up. He knew he should and he would deal with the shame of it later or the fact that she continued to torture him even at rest.

It was when he felt her tongue brush up against the side of his neck that Harm became acutely aware that this was much more than just a dream. The curtains of his bedroom never closed fully, always bathing in the bedroom and some sort of ethereal light something that he meant to get fixed but never did.

The light served its purpose now as when he sat up in bed he found Mac's naked body pressed up against his own. He accepted her rough kisses, the punishing way her lips moved over his until his brain came online. "What are you doing here?"

She snorted at his question as her hand grazed over his body and brushed him intimately. "What does it look like I'm doing?"

Her lips met his in a feverish kiss and despite the warning bells that were going off in his head Harm could only react. He missed her too damn much and wanted her just as much. Her rationale for this about face did not make any sense but honestly he didn't care. He gripped her roughly flipping them over so that Mac was on her back pressed against the mattress with his body above her.

Harm pinned her arms over her head, his kisses demanding and passionate. But with every touch of her skin another warning bell went off and another until all his senses came online. There was something different about this encounter. Something off that he only noticed it when he took a deep breath smelled the scent of alcohol on her breath. "Oh Mac."

He couldn't help the disappointment in his voice as he rolled off of her and came to sit on the edge of the bed. His breath was ragged and his heart was racing out of control. "I can't do this."

Mac laughed sardonically, something that he'd heard only once before when she last fell off the wagon. 'Harmon Rabb Junior, so righteous and pure… you never had a weak moment in your life have you?' He squeezed his eyes tightly, trying to forget that particular past. When her hand ran down his back and snaked around to his lap, Harm jumped up as if burnt.

This only made her laughter sound malevolent.

"What's the matter Captain you afraid of a little lovin'?"

"Not like this."

His words only seemed to double her efforts and Mac crawled sensuously on the bed towards him. "Oh come on. You enjoyed it enough last time. No commitments, isn't that your MO?"

"Mac…"

She cocked her head to the side as if studying him. "Or maybe you liked it better when I resisted? Did you like forcing yourself on me?"

"What!?" Harm was horrified by her implication, the thought that she could think of him that way. He could never, he would never... "I never…I.. We...Oh God, is that what you think of me, Mac?" But then again that's exactly what he had done wasn't it? She'd told him to stop and he hadn't because a stupid reasoning told him that she could be brought back to him if he showed her how much he loved her.

"I kept trying to push you away and you kept on. You didn't stop even though I told you to." Mac stood then, coming face to face with him. Harm half expected her to slap him, instead she ran her fingernails over his chest almost painfully. "Is it not fun for you if I don't resist?" Her fingers hooked onto his boxers, intent on pulling them down. "I can resist if you want. Is that your fantasy?"

"Mac, stop." He removed her hands from his body and stepped away. "This isn't you."

"It is." She stepped up to him again, like a big cat chasing after her prey.

As much as it pained him, he needed her to leave and get away from him before something stupid happened between them. "You need to leave...Get out."

The tone of his voice left no room for arguments and it only made her laugh more. "You damned sailors are all the same. Fragile egos that can't take a blow."

"And some things never change - you're still a mean drunk, MacKenzie."

Drunk. The word stung and all resolve Mac had in her to seduce him vanished with just that word. She felt it then, like a bucket of cold water had been thrown over her. The look in his eyes though, that of disgust and pain made her flush with embarrassment.

He stood with his arms crossed watching as she tried to gather her clothing only for the garments to fall from her arms more than once. She sort of dressed in the living room, haphazardly buttoning her jacket and nearly falling over a time or two as she tried to put on her jeans. Harm hurt for her and the shame she likely would feel if she remembered a damned thing the next day. "I'll call you a cab."

"Go fuck yourself, Harm." Was the last thing she said before she stepped into the night.

With a rough sigh he closed and locked the door behind her. Sadly, he sank into his sofa and buried his face into his hands. Harm couldn't help the tears that flowed or the burning in his chest just over his heart. "Oh Mac." He shouldn't have kicked her out, should have helped her but, how? How do you help someone so vehement in destroying herself?

Mac rushed out of the building and into the streets aimlessly wandering through his neighborhood barefoot, her boots having fallen from her hands once she hit the sidewalk. "What have I done?" He wouldn't forgive her for this, she knew. This blow was too much to bare.

She stumbled down the sidewalk falling at the edge of the curb where her stomach emptied its contents so violently Mac was certain she was dying. Her stomach cramped and spasmed as her body revolted against her. Beneath her, Mac could feel a cold wetness seeping in and she realized she was laying on the side of the road. For some irrational reason, her predicament made her laugh - the big, bad Colonel was now nothing more than a drunk.

When her laughter turned into tears and the stomach cramps came on again Mac begged for death. She thought of it then and how simply, in her condition she could walk into the Thames and disappear from this world. No one needed her really, did they? Least of all Harm who had suffered the most at her hands.

Maybe, if she were gone, he could move on, find someone that loved him. Maybe… She thought about him in dress whites marrying some pretty blonde, a happy smile on his face as they walked down the aisle. She imagined him the doting husband and proud father. She imagined him forgetting and moving on, the concept making her ache so badly.

There was a quicker way to end this misery. The answers lay hidden in the small pistol she carried tucked away into the pocket of her jacket. Sitting up carefully, Mac reached inside and fingered the cool metal of the familiar friend she used to dispense agency justice. If she was gone maybe then Harm would be safe. Her fingers shook as she pulled the weapon out only to have it jam when she tried to pull the trigger. It made her laugh again. She couldn't even do that right.

The shaking of her hands grew worse as did the cramps and when she threw up this time Mac tasted the blood. The iron flavor assaulted her senses making her retch again until all of the alcohol was gone from her body. It exhausted her beyond belief and she felt herself losing the battle and passing out.

It would be an hour later when she woke to find herself on his sofa and those beautiful blue eyes staring at her with concern. "Mac?"

Some time after she'd left his flat, Harm had dressed and given chase, instinctively knowing which way she'd gone. He found her lying on the wet pavement, hand wrapped around a small pistol that he'd pulled out of her grasp and tucked into the waistband of his jeans. She'd been unresponsive and incoherent so he carried her back to his home, laying her carefully on the sofa. As she slept, he tended to the scratches on her arms and the bleeding cut on her forehead that he bandaged.

Harm had thrown a blanket over her, but that didn't stop the shivering or her teeth from clattering. He was grateful when she finally woke even though her eyes confusingly met his.

Carefully, she sat up, placing the palm of her hand to her aching head. It pounded mercilessly both from the nearness of him and the impending hangover that loomed. She cried out in pain and instantly, he was at her side, pulling her into his embrace. She wanted to resist but had no more fight left in her so she allowed for his comfort, his soothing hands running up and down her back. She felt a warmth creep through her and the headache waned just enough for the fog to momentarily lift.

Mac didn't stop the tears that came but only broke into uncontrollable sobs as he held her tighter. Despite everything she'd done and the terrible words she'd hurled at him, Harm was still there and deep inside, she knew he always would be. "I don't want to die."

It broke his heart to see the normally strong and disciplined Marine break. "I don't want to die." She repeated again and again almost as if pleading for him to save her. "Help me, please." She whispered into his shoulder, repeating the words over and over.

'There will never be…' Her mantra couldn't save her anymore, it only served to tighten the noose she'd tied around her neck. "I need you."

….

Mac sat on his sofa wearing a pair of his sweat pants and a FLY NAVY shirt that Harm offered after she'd showered. Her legs were tucked under her and she wouldn't meet his eyes, only quickly glanced over the rim of the coffee mug that he filled with chamomile tea.

Her hands were still shaking, they hadn't stopped really and when Mac tried to put the mug down on the coffee table some of the contents spilled. "Shit… I'm sorry.. I can't do anything right."

"It's okay." Harm's voice was soft and gentle, calm as he mopped up the mess with a dish rag. He noted the shakes, some of which were harder than others. It was then he realized the signs he'd missed but then, he wasn't accustomed to dealing with addicts except for the few clients in his past. With a sigh, he stood and walked to the kitchen, returning with a small glass that had two fingers worth of amber liquid. "It's bourbon." He offered it to Mac who glanced at him gratefully.

She took a sip and the shaking practically ceased minutes later, confirming his suspicions. This wasn't an occasional thing, Mac was off the wagon. Hell, if tonight was any indication, she burned the wagon. "When did it start? The drinking?"

"With Keeter. We were at dinner after our first assignment… I hadn't tasted wine in so long… One bottle led to another." And another until she was no longer herself. "I almost slept with him that night. He pushed me away, thankfully...After that hangover I swore I wouldn't drink again."

And then it became casual, a from 'time to time' kind of thing. "After Toronto it was the only thing that would help me sleep… I just, I didn't think I would crawl back into the bottle so effortlessly."

She stared at the bourbon in the glass, fascinated on how the liquid undulated with even the smallest of movements. "I made myself believe that, as long as it wasn't vodka, I would be okay."

"Vodka was your dad's drink." He recalled and was confirmed by her nodding. "Easier for you to get because it was always at home?" She nodded again. "You weren't like this in Toronto." Although he saw her drink Harm hadn't seen her like this, a shell of a woman he once knew.

"No, I wasn't… It snowballed when the control started slipping. It helped stop the nightmares." God, those nightmares. Even when awake she could hear Sadik's voice. 'If you don't shoot your lover Sarah, the torture will continue.' A single tear slipped from her eye which she angrily brushed away.

That was another problem, no one had a lead on Sadik, not really. The man eluded the agency and anyone else that had come after him. Like a true chameleon, he hid well and Mac was waiting for him to strike, an ordeal that was becoming so tiring.

"I've tried to stop. I want to. The only time I am mostly sober is at work and even then I slip some in my coffee just to stop the shaking." She sighed, thinking back to earlier that evening and how she wanted to die. It wasn't like her but then, what was these days?

"Do you remember what you said to me tonight?" At her questioning glance, he swallowed hard and tried to explain. "Do you really believe I forced myself on you?"

Did she? "I asked you to stop."

"And I didn't."

"Because I didn't really want you to." She said as if the words cost her something. Mac couldn't pretend anymore, it was too exhausting to try. "I've wanted you for years, Harm. If I didn't things wouldn't have gotten that far." No, if she didn't really want him, Mac would have beaten him to a pulp and ripped his spine out for good measure. What happened between them was a mutual surrender.

She recalled parts of it - his hands branding her skin with every touch. His mouth pleasing her, making her call out his name. When Mac closed her eyes and thought of him, it was always visions of them in the houseboat and a lovemaking that felt so complete. "Why can't I get over you?"

The desperation in her voice made him ache for her. "I've asked myself the same thing."

"In the past few years, the only time I felt whole was with you, those stolen moments we had together."

She almost turned away when he stood and then sat by her side, his hand coming up to caress her cheek so gently. There was love in his blue eyes and hurt that Mac wished she could take away. "Then let me help you. Let me in."

"I'm broken, Harm." Mac leaned into him sighing when his arms enveloped her in a hug. It felt good, too damned good to be this close to him and the headaches that usually tugged at the edges of her mind began to dull when his hands moved soothingly over her back. "I have to stop drinking and I am not sure how."

Harm didn't know much about detox, but he was aware of the dangers, the possible delirium and loss of consciousness. "I'll take you to the hospital, you can start there."

"I can't go to a hospital." She took a deep breath and relaxed further into his embrace. "For reasons I can't explain it wouldn't be wise for me to be in rehab or a hospital."

He knew better than to ask about the reasons knowing full well it would likely cause problems with the agency or an assignment she was currently on. Despite his disdain for the CIA, it was part of who she was and he wasn't going to take that way. "I'm not sure how to help you." And he was terrified to try and wean her off the bottle not knowing what could happen to her if he did. He took a ragged breath and tried to be the picture of strength for her, a resolve that was shattering when he felt her crying again. "Oh, Mac."

"I can't imagine what I must look like to you." She said softly, her voice hitching between the tears that wouldn't seem to stop falling. The bourbon she'd recently ingested was beginning to work and she could feel the combination of alcohol and exhaustion transcending her to oblivion.

"You look like a friend that needs my help."

"A friend?" Mac questioned, raising her head up to look at him. He was her friend once, her best friend, the one confidant that knew everything about her. Time had erased part of their relationship although she couldn't quite remember when the downward spiral began. "Are we even that anymore? I've treated you horribly. I tried to hurt you." A fact that pained her so much it was hard to wrap her head around. This was a man that she had such affection for and yet, she wanted him to die at one point, to ease whatever maelstrom wreaked havoc inside of her. "I don't want to hurt you anymore."

Harm breathed a sigh of relief and pulled her to him again, his arms holding onto her tightly. This would be another battle for her and without medical attention, the results could be catastrophic. "I have an idea." It was time to call in a favor.


	6. Breaking The Habit

Sorry for the delay, getting over NCIS took a bit longer than I would have liked. Trying to fix up Mac did too. I am semi glossing over Mac drying out which is a chapter I've been dreading in writing as I lose myself in the angst.

Admittedly, they need some reprieve. It's coming!

Who Harm found to help them was driving me nuts so a blast from the past comes in to help.

On with the show.

**CHAPTER 6. - Breaking The Habit**

_"I don't know what's worth fighting for_

_Or Why I have to scream_

_I don't know why instigate and say what I don't mean_

_I don't know how I got this way_

_I know it's not alright_

_So I'm breaking the habit."_

"Breaking The Habit" by Linkin Park.

"You only call when you need a favor." Teresa Coulter chastised and dropped a small carry on bag at the foot of Harm's door. She grinned as he stepped forward and enveloped her in a tight hug. He was still attractive, she noticed although it had been years since she last saw him. "It's good to see ya, Harm."

"You too Teri." When they broke apart, he followed her gaze that became fixated on the woman that was fast asleep on his couch curled under a few blankets but, shivering nonetheless. Mac was writhing, breathing slightly out of control. She whimpered in pain and it had been less than 24 hours since she took her last drink. "I'm sorry for this, I didn't know who to call."

Coulter rushed to Mac's side, taking a seat at the edge of the sofa and pressing her hand to the Marine's forehead. "A hospital to start."

"She's CIA now, been with them for almost two years… No hospital." He folded his arms across his chest defensively and when Coulter looked at him, really looked at him she noticed the exhaustion. Only it was more than that, he seemed so helplessness - something Harm never was.

"That's why you wouldn't give me details." She said to herself. "Drugs or alcohol?"

Harm sighed deeply. "The latter. Mac's an...uh...alcoholic. Had it under control and uh… look, if you can't help...I'll find someone else."

"Harm. I can and I will." She saw him visibly relax, somewhat, he still seemed so apprehensive. "When was her last drink?"

He shifted from side to side, cursing himself for not remembering more about Mac's current condition. He glanced at his watch and then towards Mac. Finally, his gaze fell to Coulter. "I ah…" He shrugged. "Hours? I don't know exactly." And finally, whatever was left of his sanity began to chip.

Harm began to pace, his words coming out fast and jumbled as he spoke. "I don't know what to do. How to help her." And she stubbornly stopped drinking on her own, trying to speed up the process. He had begged her not to, but Mac could be just as hard headed as he. "She gets this high fever and then sweats it out. She's in pain and I can't do a goddamn thing about it!" He angrily brushed away a tear and sighed. "I'm sorry."

Teri stared up at her friend and couldn't help a past memory that flashed through her mind. She'd been terribly attracted to Harm for years. The man was born to be a flirt and she enjoyed the attention until she saw him interact with Mac. He was gentler with his partner, the cocky jet jock dying down to conform to the female Marine.

It was the look in Harm's eyes that gave him away when they were amongst the Navajo. The jealousy in his eyes as one of the men pulled Mac out to dance that was clearly evident. He'd kept his emotions veiled but, Teri could notice a shift in him that was almost teritorial. She realized then that she stood no chance - no woman ever would when Mac had his heart. Which is why she was surprised, years later, to find the pair hadn't figured it out.

Now there was something different, Harm's intense sense of duty for the Marine had grown. The way he looked down at her was like that of a man in love. He wasn't hiding his emotions anymore and though it made Teri slightly wistful, she knew Harm and Mac belonged together. "You've loved her for years."

At his shocked expression Teri grinned. "Yeah, I could tell from the moment we met. When did you two finally figure it out?"

Her question made him frown, his shoulders slumping as he thought back to Paraguay and everything that had happened since. He loved her, that much he knew, but it wasn't reciprocated, not really. They weren't exactly a couple merely two moons that seemed to revolve around each other, always out of reach. "We haven't." It was a truth that made his heart sink to the pit of his stomach. "The last two years have been a mess."

"I'm sorry."

"I am too." Oh, how he longed to turn back time to that night in his apartment when a pregnant Mac informed him she'd been assigned to the CIA for time. He should have stopped her, begged her, told her that she meant the World to him. Instead, he let her go and watched her walk away until it was too late.

_'There will never be an us.'_ Her words still stung like salt in a wound and he couldn't help that enraged ache that welled up as a result. Anger at Mac, at Webb, at Chegwidden and at himself. He was a scared fool, hiding his feelings behind his uniform because he couldn't understand the intensity.

When he finally admitted just how emotionally invested he was in Mac, it was too late. She was too far gone.

Mac stretched out on the sofa and sat up pulling off the blankets that now felt too warm. She took a few moments to regain awareness and once she did the headaches began. One was that dull ache that only occured around Harm, the trigger she couldn't seem to shake. The other was that of a hangover along with the nausea to boot. She pressed a hand to her forehead finding her skin to be clammy and sensitive.

She felt someone was watching and when Mac fully opened her eyes she found Teresa Coulter smiling softly at her. "Hey Teri."

"Hey yourself, Mac." She helped Mac sit up, waiting several minutes for the fresh wave of nausea to pass. It was the making of a good old fashioned hangover but, what was to come next would he hell. "How bad is it?"

"It started as social drinking...Now..." Mac sighed in frustration. She was a Marine and stronger than her addiction, why had she let alcohol win this time? "It keeps the night terrors manageable."

_Night terrors._ The phrase made Harm visibly flinch. He'd lived through his own brand of terrors - relentless images of Mac dying in Paraguay. It was the nightmares that finally forced him to resign his commission and follow after her. "I'm sorry."

"None of this is your fault, Harm." And it really wasn't. She'd taken that stupid assignment allowing honor and duty to dictate her life. It was for the greater good and now her life was in shambles. "I'm an alcoholic...It was bound to happen."

"Well, we're gonna fix you up." Teri stood from the edge of the sofa and grabbed her purse. "Keep her comfortable." She told Harm. "I have a doctor friend in London that can supply what we need."

Coulter was able to get medication from a friend that worked in one of the local hospitals and created a make-shift IV stand out of a metal coat rack that Harm had in his apartment. Mac had been shaking so badly she could barely walk on her own and Harm carried her to his bedroom, carefully placing her on the right side of the bed. She'd been somewhat coherent when Teri secured the needle to her vein and began to administer the medication to help ease the effects of withdrawal.

Sadly, this had not been unfamiliar territory and in the spaces between darkness and lucidity Mac had begun to shuffle through memories of a barely legal Sarah MacKenzie's first battle with addiction. The hospital had caught on soon enough, after she was wheeled in through emergency, that there was a severe problem. She recalled the shaking, the hallucinations, the aches and pains, memories that she'd all but compartmentalized and buried along with much of her childhood trauma. The staff had pumped her full of medication, used to ease her suffering and the rest was taken care of by her uncle Matt who had sprung her from the hospital only to begin his own brand of therapy in the desert.

Matthew O'Hara had been relentless, every bit the feared Marine even when she begged him for a drink. He had held her down when the addiction threatened violence. Her uncle also cradled a crying Sarah MacKenzie that longed to leave her miserable life by any means necessary. It was his stoicism, the tough love that saved her life and gave Mac a new purpose.

Mac shook her head of the memories and stared down at the needle in her vien, waiting for the worst of it all to start. Oh, and it would be worse, she knew because the addiction was far greater and stronger this time. It wasn't the vice of a rebellious teen but, a method for her to continue to live and it had to end, for her sake… For _his_ sake.

_Harm_. She thought his name and felt a warmth course through her and a strength that Mac knew could make her survive. She loved him, there was no denying that fact to herself anymore. What was the point when nothing seemed to shake that feeling? "I'm sorry." She said softly, brushing away the tears that had slipped from her eyes as she recalled the looks he'd given her when Coulter had arrived.

The sad fact was that he would likely hate or pity her after this, neither something she wanted or needed between their already battered relationship. Whatever bits and pieces she remembered from the last time she dried out were not pretty. The slur of curses that she hurled at her uncle, begging for a drink, the reprieve that made her seem so pitiful. Harm would likely witness it all or worse.

"I don't want you seeing what happens." She said sternly as Harm had watched Teri work on making sure the cocktail of medications were adequate.

Harm stood at the side of the bed, arms folded across his chest. "Tough."

"Teri, please… Keep him away." She'd nearly begged Coulter knowing the other woman would likely not have much luck with the stubborn sailor. In fact, he had remained in the room almost as if keeping guard until she succumbed to a medicated oblivion.

The shaking began suddenly and uncontrollably. As did the feeling of something crawling on her skin. Mac rubbed her arms to staunch the sensation only to feel it start to amplify. She bit back a sob by pressing her hand to her mouth and hoped the first wave of withdrawal would pass quickly.

Harm was in the kitchen, preparing himself and Teri a quick meal of tomato soup and cheese sandwiches. "What should I expect?" He motioned with his chin towards the door of his bedroom which was left ajar and then leaned over the kitchen island.

"I'm no pro at these things but I did help out in the ER quite a bit during residency..." Terri stopped short and sighed. She'd seend how badly the process was, even when medicated a patient could suffer greatly. "It's different for everyone." She was hesitating and had to turn away from Harm's intense stare. This would be difficult for him, more so if the process brought out some of Mac's demons.

"Tell me." He pressed.

"She won't be herself."

"Mac hasn't been herself in nearly two years."

Teri shook her head. "No, Harm… What I've seen...Some patients hallucinate almost as if they've tripped on acid. She can shake, violently. Black out. Become sicker than anything you could imagine."

At her admission, Harm's eyes went wide. "But the medication you brought?"

"It'll ease some of it but not all of it. Without the meds a patient can go through seizures. Some have died." She said the last part slowly unwilling to cause him more pain, but she needed him to understand. "Remember what it feels like to go cold turkey off of cigars? This is a zillion times worse and you can't trick your body with gum and a nicotine patch…. She could say things, mean and angry things. She could beg you to ease the pain."

Harm smirked ruefully, he'd been on the receiving end of her drunken outbursts before and knew the mean streak that Mac could harbor. "Whatever it takes, Doc. It just need her to be okay."

"You prepared to be here for a week maybe more?"

He nodded. "I didn't give the Admiral details, only mentioned that Mac was in trouble. Chegwidden told me to take all the time I needed." He knew his CO felt responsible for Mac leaving JAG especially considering he green lit Webb's stupid mission to Paraguay.

They had been halfway finished with their meal when a sharp wail came from the opened door of Harm's bedroom. With a start, the pair ran towards the source, finding Mac tangled in bedsheets and curled into a ball by the headboard and trying to pull out the needle from the IV in her arm. "Get them off! No! Get them off of me!" She cried out and frantically beggan rubbing her hands up and down her arms as if something were crawling over her. "_Please_! Someone! Get them off of me!"

"Hold her down." Teri ordered and Harm did as told, speaking softly to Mac as he tried to hold her down into the mattress. For his efforts, he took quite a beating, Mac landing various blows on his face and abdomen until his full form came over her body as Teri administered a sedative to help ease the hallucination. "Calm down, Mac… Nothing will hurt you."

"Get off of me!" She yelled, writhing against Harm's strength until Teri introduced more medication that would help her rest. The darkness called her again, taking Mac into its depths.

When she stopped moving, Harm released her and sat on the edge of the bed watching the now-unconscious Marine sleep. It wasn't soundly, he noticed as Mac still shook and whimpered. Beads of sweat covered her body despite the shaking and Harm resisted the urge to take her in his arms. "Oh, Mac." He said softly as his hand brushed damp hair off her face. Carefully, he moved off the bed trying to make sure she wouldn't wake. "Is that it?"

Teri shook her head. "No. This will take days, Harm. I wish it could be faster. And it can get worse."

Harm glanced down at Mac noticing the shaking had stopped. She seemed to be resting now, deeply asleep as he noted the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest. Teri checked the IV in her vein, thankfully her added measures, the extra tape had held despite Mac's attempt to pull it out. "One of us has to be here at all times. You should try and get some rest."

He shook his head. "I won't be able to sleep."

Harm sank into the opposite side of the bed, his back propped up against the headboard and Coulter knew better than to argue. "You have to be jet lagged. Go rest, I'll take first watch."

"Mac should be out for a while. Come get me if anything happens." When Teri slipped out of his room, Harm turned to the side studying the sleeping Marine. Sweat clung to her like a second skin and she began shivering again. Unsure what to do, he pulled the blankets over her and then went to his bathroom, wet a washcloth and placed it over her forehead.

Harm sank into the opposite side of the bed and continued to watch her curiously. He never could understand addictions, even when he battled his own with cigars. He remembered the shakes, the headaches and the want to supplement that addiction for another until he caught himself enjoying one bourbon too many on a nightly basis. That's when he decided on nicotine gum as a way to wean himself off successfully.

As he thought about his own addiction, he tried to make sense of Mac's. He knew how it started and the rock bottom followed by her uncle's care that forced her to stop. Why she'd fallen off the wagon over Dalton Lowne he never could understand. The man was a prick, seducing her with money and luxury that was so unlike Mac. Lowne wasn't good enough for her, no one was really - not even him.

If he had been this wouldn't have happened to her. He would have told her what he felt once Mic was gone, declared his love and not stopped until they were together. He sighed and fought the urge to pull her into his arms knowing that this was her battle not his.

Damnit how he wanted to take her pain away, to heal her. The utter feeling of worthlessness gnawed at him, the man of action that needed to right all wrongs. And he couldn't.

Harm managed to nod off for nearly an hour when he felt a hand on his chest, Mac's, he noted when his eyes snapped open to find her hand had slipped underneath his t-shirt. She was caressing his skin and staring at him with glassy eyes that held no feelings or emotions. "What are you doing?"

"Get me a drink, please." She pleaded.

He pulled her hand off his body and held her wrist on an iron grip. "No."

"If you _love_ me, you'd do that for me."

"No, Mac."

She was practically crawling up on his lap and Harm had to physically push her off of him. Mac moved forward stopped only by his hands firmly on her shoulders. "I hurt so bad." Her words were slurred and disjointed in a voice he'd never heard before. "I feel like I'm on fire… my veins are burning. I'm in agony." She rubbed her arms roughly and made to touch him again only to he held back. "_Please_."

Harm's jaw set as he fought the urge to hold her against him knowing it wouldn't work. "No."

And then she slapped him. "You're an asshole. You don't give a shit about me, you never have."

"You know thats not true."

"Then help me." Her voice had taken on a seductive timbre, she practically purred as she spoke to him. "Just a little drink to get the edge off."

Harm quickly got out of the bed in an effort to stop her from trying to touch him. "Lay down, get some sleep, that's an order Marine."

She cocked her head to the side as if studying him and then began to laugh without emotion - It sounded practically evil. "Captain Rabb, still being righteous I see? You're a…" Her words cut short when a terrible pain shot through her body. The shaking began again and then the hallucination. "Don't come near me… leave _him_ alone!" She curled up into a ball by the headboard and began to rake her nails over the surface. "Let me out! _Please_… get me out!"

"Teri!" He yelled for Coulter while desperately attempting to reach for Mac. She pushed him away with force nearly making Harm fall. Only when Teri pushed more medication into her vein did Mac calm down.

"I ah…I'll be back." Harm stated when Coulter began to take Mac's vitals. In truth, he needed a moment to get his bearings again, to get his battered heart under control. He rushed through the apartment that felt too small, too stifling. He was breathing hard and yet was unable to take in enough oxygen to stop a panic attack until stepping out the glass door adjacent to the kitchen which led to a balcony.

Cool evening air greeted him and only then was Harm able to take a deep, shaky breath. He felt like something was pressing against his chest, squeezing his lungs tightly that only eased when he began to cry. Leaning against the railing, he broke down, tears streaming down his face as he desperately tried to calm himself. "Oh, Mac."


	7. I'm Alive

**Chapter 7 - I'm Alive**

_Never again will I be dishonored_

_And never again will I be reminded_

_We're living within the world of the jaded_

_They're inspiration_

_It's my obligation_

_To never again, allow this to happen_

"I'm Alive." - By Disturbed

Tears. There were so many tears and Mac couldn't stop them from falling. She was curled up in a ball at the base of the bed barely able to breathe as another episode gripped her. The medication had eased the hallucinations but not the memories of what she'd seen and not the pain. Had it been this painful before? She couldn't remember.

The hallucinations were vivid and frightening, always about Sadik much like the night terrors that brought her to the bottle.

Sadik. It was always about Sadik hurting her. Hurting him. Using various methods of torture until he made her scream. And that was what he wanted each and every time, her surrender, the auditory admission of pain. She swallowed down a sob and wrapped her arms around her legs tightly, trying to stifle the cold that she felt deep in her bones that quickly burned into a living breathing fire.

Everything was hurting, aching as if someone had been tasked in breaking each and every one of her bones. When her eyes were open, even the dim light coming from the bathroom would make her eyes ache. If her eyes were closed, they would burn imperceptibly. And the headaches were a constant pounding in her skull that only stopped if she was asleep. She was exhausted, bone weary but, not even the sedatives would keep her down for long before another hallucination worse than before ended her rest. And her body would offer no reprieve simply continue the cycle until the very last vestiges of her addiction was purged.

At times, when she'd been lucid enough to talk to Coulter, Harm had always been present. An unwavering force that gave her some semblance of strength until she saw the look in his eyes. They were puffy, bloodshot, a dead give away that he'd been crying, something she'd only witnessed a handful of times when situations in his life were too much to bear. It pained Mac to see him that way knowing she'd been the root cause of all this, the monster that had taken hold seeking to destroy both his and her life. This was hurting him but he was too stubborn to go away.

Her plight had been noble in nature, a want to trade her life for his because she knew, too damned well that the CIA would take everything from him until his life was theirs.. Sadly, it was a trade off she would gamble with again if only to keep him out of the agency and safe. Only the more she tried to keep him away, the closer to death he came, even taking a bullet in the streets of Toronto.

Mac had fucked up with him, even though it had been Clay that brought Harm to Canada and wrapped him up in an assignment he had no business being involved in. Having him close had shaken her resolve, obliterated the control she'd held onto so dearly if only to keep herself safe. And she hurt him. God, why did she hurt him?

"I'm so sorry." Her voice cracked and more tears followed. "Please forgive me." She spoke to an empty room and prayed that this last episode would take her life.

'There Will Never Be an Us.' Mac placed her hands over her ears and squeezed tightly, hoping to stop the voice from taunting her, the mantra that had no place in her world anymore. "Shut up...shut up...shut up." She said to the voice, repeating the words aa she rocked herself back and forth, the motion putting her to sleep.

**Three Days Later.**

"You're leaving?" Harm was following Teri through the apartment as she rolled the small suitcase behind. He had stepped out of the shower only to find the doctor packed and ready to leave. She had the same weariness as he only it wasn't as pronounced. Between mac's episodes, the doctor had managed to sleep here and there. Harm, on the other hand instinctively knew when Mac was awake and somehow had kept her schedule.

A full day and a half had passed since she'd last suffered a hallucination, shaking or any other manifestation from detox. It was unimaginable how quickly the symptoms could pass and then stop altogether which made Harm fear the worse.

Teri pressed a prescription to his hand with the different medications and vitamins that were required in order to keep Mac clean and healthy. "I left a note stuck on your fridge with the dosages for those and a few other suggestions."

"I can't do this alone, Teri." Harm hated how insecure he sounded and yet, nothing could describe him better. He shoved his hands into the pocket of his jeans and frowned. "What if…"

She placed a hand on his forearm. "Harm. I can't do anything else to help Mac. It's her fight now." Teri kissed his cheek, letting herself linger a moment too long. "Get some rest, okay?"

Harm locked the door behind Coulter and then turned to stare at his closed bedroom door. Ever since the Mac's last episode a day prior, she'd been sleeping, waking only to use the facilities and then fall back into his bed. He'd tried to help her only to be pushed away and asked, repeatedly to leave.

He wouldn't taking an obstinate stance even when Mac accepted aid from only Coulter. Harm had lived every single event with her - the hallucinations that made no sense, the shaking, vomiting, the angry words she shouted at him only to apologize minutes later.

He helped Teri bathe her, keeping his eyes averted as if he'd never seen Mac naked before. Resting only when she did, the lack of sleep had begun to make him irritable until he broke down again. This time he hadn't cried, resentfully yelling back when Mac yelled words she didn't mean.

_'Why the hell are you still here?' She snapped when a particularly bad hallucination, the last one Mac suffered, made her lash out of him._

_'You know why, Mac.'_

_That sad tone of voice and his pitiful expression made her laugh sardonically. 'You're gonna die because of me. Because I don't want you. I don't love you. There will NEVER...'_

_'Then why did you come to me?! Huh? Why me? Why not Webb or anyone else?"_

_The laughter was back again, this time mocking him painfully so. 'Because you're easy to use. That righteousness of yours, the need to fix everyone and everything. Well, you can't fix me, Rabb.'_

_Harm hadn't thought she could hurt him more but, at that moment his resolve to save her was wavering. 'Fuck you, MacKenzie!' And then he stormed out of the room and went for a hard 8 mile run. It felt good to get out and get the adrenaline pumping through his veins, clearing his mind from the baiting game she'd played with him._

_Once Harm returned, he did with new found rationality and some shame. Teri had warned him of the outbursts, the words Mac would say but wouldn't mean. He walked into his room to find her in tears, asking for forgiveness which he freely gave._

_After that moment he'd taken a quick shower and stayed away, allowing Mac to rest as his presence seemed to torment her at times. With Teri gone, he no longer had that buffer, a thought that terrified him to say the least._

With a sigh, he went to his couch and dropped unceremoniously into the cushions. His body was giving up on him, begging for some much needed sleep. Once he stretched out a sense of calm came over Harm and then he passed out.

Back in the room, Mac awoke to surroundings that seemed so unfamiliar and yet, not. Where the hell was she?

Awareness sank in as she felt a dull ache in her joints and a slight headache drumming lightly when she closed her eyes. Mac propped one eye open and noticed that besides the bed was a makeshift IV stand that consisted of a coat rack and the bag attached was empty with it's plastic tubes wrapped it. She stared down at the crease in her right arm noticing the bruising and tiny pinpricks, the only remnants of where the IV was once connected to her vein.

"It's over." _Thank God._ Mac heaved a sigh of relief. Carefully, she sat up and tested her joints, moving them as if they'd never been used before. When she stretched, her muscles protested, making Mac wince as she swung her legs off the mattress and placed her feet on the floor. An acrid taste filled her mouth and she bit back a wave of nausea as she stood and ambled to the bathroom.

She closed the door behind her, grabbed the edges of the sink and slowly looked up at her image reflected on the bathroom mirror. The woman staring back at her was haggard, unkempt, nothing like the squared away Marine of old. She was a stranger.

Her hair was a mess, strands matted to her head and stuck to the side of her face with an oily sheen. Mac pushed it off her cheek, disgusted with how grimy her skin felt - sticky and dry. The odd taste in her mouth nearly made her throw up and she was thankful to find an unopened toothbrush resting on the side of the sink which she cracked open, slathering a thick glob of paste over its bristles. It felt like Heaven to brush her teeth - a simple act that made her feel normal again, not like some junkie that had just woken up from a bender.

There was a thick, fluffy robe neatly folded and placed on top of the closed toilet as well as a washcloth, towel and a bottle of some scented body lotion.

_Harm._ She smiled softly at his thoughtfulness, knowing he'd move Heaven and Earth to make sure she was safe. But, where was he?

The apartment was eerily quiet making her wonder if she was alone. Maybe he'd heeded her words? Maybe he'd seen enough and left? Mac couldn't fault him if he did. The parts of her detox that were freshest in mind was her treatment of him - most of which was utterly appalling.

Uncontrollably she'd lashed out, only to beg his forgiveness when the hallucinations passed and lucidity made her aware of the harsh words. She didn't want to hurt him anymore but, that darkness inside her did, taking hold whenever the vestiges of a detox induced hangover was at its worst.

No, she couldn't fault him for leaving and never coming back. It would be the smartest thing for him, the safest. Afterall, every man involved with her suffered greatly, eventually her curse would take its toll on Harm. He would leave her too, they all did.

Mac sighed as she stripped out of the clothes she wore - his - she noted as they were entirely too big. Her shower was lengthy, alternating between cold and hot water as she dragged a washcloth lathered in his body wash over her skin. She must have rinsed and lathered again four or five times until her body felt sufficiently clean, then given a similar treatment to her hair until fingers ran effortlessly through the strands.

Wrapped in his robe, Mac walked back into the room and glanced at the bed. The sheets were a mess, half stretched across the mattress, hanging on by an edge. She made quick work of changing them along with the pillow cases, tossing the previous ones in the hamper in the bathroom.

Next, she came to the window, cracking it open to let the fresh cool breeze in and stymie the stagnant air inside. She took a deep breath and then another, feeling more like her old self as the minutes ticked by.

When Mac came out of the room, she quietly walked to the living area only to find Harm stretched out on the sofa with a throw barely covering him. Fast asleep, he hadn't noticed she was watching him, mesmerized by the slow rise and fall of his chest.

Of course he was still there. Of course he hadn't run away, why would she believe otherwise? The man was unwavering that way, much as she would have been for him under similar conditions. "Oh, Harm." She whispered, coming to sit atop the coffee table where she could continue to watch him.

Mac studied his facial features, the ones she'd memorised through the years. He had a few extra wrinkles here and there and a five o'clock shadow that made him just a little more sexy. His hair was sticking up in odd, messy angles and he looked so exhausted even in sleep. She wanted to touch him, run a hand over his face and through the strands of his hair. She wanted to hold him and in turn, be held by him. She wanted his love, his affection. She wanted to end the voice inside that taunted her and tried to push him away. _'There Will Never…'_

_'NO!'_ Inwardly, she yelled at the voice, stopping it from finishing the phrase that she'd grown tired of hearing. When the headache began to manifest itself, she stopped that as well, commanding herself to focus on him. Only on him and fixing the pain she put him through.

"I'm sorry." Mac breathed out sadly, knowing she was the root of the exhaustion and even a few of those wrinkles. She had said such horrible things to him, words hurled in both anger and defense. Yet he remained there, her anchor.

Harm was too good for her, too honorable to be wrapped up in her mistakes. She closed her eyes as a tear slid down her cheek. _'Oh, Harm. I'm so sorry.'_

"Hey." His voice, rough from sleep forced her eyes to open. He stared at her through half-lidded eyes that widened when he noticed she was crying. Harm sat up and his hand reached her face, brushing away the tears with his thumb. His hand gently caressed her cheek, the sweetness of his touch bringing her hand over his own as she nuzzled her cheek against the warmth of his palm. "How do you feel?"

"Alive." She felt herself being pulled, his strong hand wrapping around her slender wrist tugging her into him. His arms came around her as Harm settled Mac onto his lap. He held on for dear life, hoping to convey with actions what his words never could. "Harm." She sighed deeply as her head fell to the crook of his shoulder.

"Why did you leave me that night?" He asked suddenly, referring to their last intimate evening at the Ritz before she ran off to the waiting arms of the CIA. "I made love to you that night. I poured everything I felt for you into loving you and you just left."

At his words, the tears began again cascading down her cheeks and onto his shirt. Everything after that night would have been easier if she could forget his touch, his love. Leaving him was what finally drove her into the alcohol induced abyss and severed the control that was hanging by a thread.

When she didn't immediately answer, Harm moved so that she would settle into the sofa next to him. Her eyes wouldn't meet his own, so he tucked a hand under her chin, forcing her to look at him. "You broke my heart… Why?"

"Harm."

"No, Mac… You're going to give me a straight answer this time. If you didn't want me then, you wouldn't have slept with me." They had practically devoured each other once they stepped into the room at the Ritz and she didn't push him away that time, simply lead him to the bed. "I saw it in your eyes when you gave into me and then...Why did you leave me? Goddamnit, why!?" He demanded, bringing his hands roughly to her shoulders when she tried to move away.

"Sadik Fahd." It was suddenly simple for her to say, the classified piece of information that Mac kept away for his sake. She knew Harm too damned well, that military man side of his who would follow her to the ends of the Earth to make sure the terrorist was killed. She didn't want him on that suicide mission especially knowing that Sadik new little if nothing at all about him. "He's still alive."

Harm shook his head. "No. Webb assured me he was dead."

"He's alive, Harm. The never caught him. His people falsified information that made us believe he was dead along with rights and a burial." She could still see the disbelief in his eyes, the want to believe she was safe of that monster when she was anything but. "I saw the look in Webb's eyes, Harm. He was terrified and unable to mask it. Trust me, Sadik is alive."

Right after the explosion in Montreal, Webb came to me. It put everything into perspective. I had to leave you, it was the only way to keep you safe."

Harm felt his heart squeeze as she spoke, each word making him both want to hug her and shake some sense into her. "You should have told me, I could have helped, somehow."

"That's what I didn't want. Webb's pretty sure he doesn't know about you. I wanted to keep it that way."

"That's a stupid move, MacKenzie."

It was, but she wasn't going to admit that to him. Instead, she stood and offered him a hand when Harm was unable to stifle a yawn. At his questioning glance, she smiled and motioned towards his room. "You need to sleep."

"What about you?" Harm hesitated but eventually allowed her to guide him through the apartment and towards his room. His question was answered when she slid into the opposite side of the bed and underneath the fresh set of sheets. He removed his jeans, leaving only his boxers and a t-shirt as he lay down on the opposite side of the bed on top of the sheets.

There was an odd tension between them, one that was making him uncomfortable until he heard Mac call his name. "Harm?"

"Mac?" He half expected her to kick him out, to push him away. Instead, he felt her moving towards him.

"Hold me." Mac's voice was a soft, her request sounding like a plea. "Please. Hold me." She said again, still with the same tone as if she would break if he wouldn't asquisese. Turning, she found him sliding under the cover, his body coming close enough that his breath tickled her skin. And then, his arms came wrapped around, cradling her body against his own. She marveled in his warm and the strength that she needed to get her life back in order.

Harm's memories took him back to the last time they lay like this, although they'd been stark naked and sated. He noted how well she fit in his arms, how her skin awakened feelings in him that he'd tried to deny for so long. He turned them slightly so that he lay on his back with Mac's head on his chest, his arms tightly wrapped around her.


	8. Solution

**Chapter 8. - Solution**

_"Searching for absolution_

_In some place I haven't found_

_Don't tell me it's my own delusion_

_that keeps me up at night_

_All I need's a solution for me to make you mine."_

**"Solution" by Vérité.**

In his arms Mac had fallen asleep for only a short while, her body relaxing into Harm's until the night terror came again. It was always the same - Sadik, Harm, torture, a gunshot, blood on her hands - sometimes on an endless loop.

The nightmares were accompanied by whimpering and erratic breathing that were beginning to worry Harm when it seemed she wouldn't wake. He coaxed her to calm, speaking soothing words into her ear as he rocked her gently. "Shhh, it's okay. It's just a dream."

His hold tightened, cocooning Mac against him, hoping his words would ease her distress. "I'm here, Mac. It'll be okay."

"They never stop. The nightmares never stop." Mac said, attempting and failing to hide the fact that she was crying. In the last few months alcohol was her means of catharsis rather than tears. It was just easier to lose herself in a few shots of bourbon instead of messy emotions that only intensified the nightmares.

"It'll be okay."

"Stop saying that!" Mac pushed off him in favor of laying on her back, pressing a hand to her chest in an effort to control the erratic heartbeat. _'It's not real. Harm's safe, alive.' _She hadn't meant to snap at him but, for the life of her she couldn't see the light at the end of the tunnel. "I'm sorry."

"What do you dream?" Harm turned on his side, propping up on one elbow as he watched her peek from under the arm she'd thrown over her eyes.

She let out a deep breath "Sadik. Always about Sadik."

"Paraguay?"

"No." Paraguay would have been a blessing, an ending she could control. "No." Mac hesitated yet again when the latest adaptation raced fleetingly through her mind. "Sadik captured you. By the time I find you, he's _hurt_ you."

Her words sent a shiver up his spine. It wasn't just a hurt, he knew. "Torture?"

"Yes...It's always the same but different… a pistol in my hand and two choices. Shoot myself or shoot you."

"What do you choose?" Harm asked although he knew he didn't have to; eyes gave away the pain, sadness and shame.

"You." She closed her eyes and saw herself raising the pistol at Harm's beaten and bloodied body. She would put him out of his misery, end the pain and be condemned to Hell for it. Mac could practically feel the gun in her hand - cool, heavy metal of a specific weight. One bullet, chambered, ready for the pull of a trigger. "I always shoot...Always kill you… Sometimes I try to shoot him but, the gun won't fire...It's always you. I always shoot you." The option to kill herself never came to fruition out of fear that Sadik would continue to torture Harm even after her death. "I'm sorry."

"When did the dreams start?"

"Toronto, on the houseboat, after we..."

She said and Harm remembered that morning when Mac had awoken from a nightmare, some of their false sense of bliss had been broken. "I've hurt you, haven't I?"

"You haven't been yourself."

Yet, that wasn't an excuse, especially not when Mac still loved him so much. She allowed herself to be manipulated, used, all because of some misguided assumption that she needed to keep Harm away. But, she'd hurt him: emotionally, physically. In Toronto, she wanted him dead, craved it and now her heart squeezed at the thought, aching to the point of physical pain.

Mac turned on her side, reaching her hand out so that her fingertips ran over his face. She traced his brow, cheeks and finally his lips. The man was beautiful, always had been and the few wrinkles gave him a distinguished appearance. Despite what she'd done to him, Harm was still there, always would be, Mac surmised like she had been for him years earlier.

For some reason she thought of Russia and the adventure that brought them closer than ever. She was sure nothing would stop them, the inevitable relationship that she craved. Maybe if she hadn't been so scared? Maybe if she would have told him that she loved him their fate would have been different. Maybe if she hadn't taken it so personal when he left to fly and their communication dwindled.

Things were never the same which was why it became too easy to control her feelings and allow the agency shrink to manipulate her - deep inside, she still felt abandoned, hurt. And she hurt Harm because of it, as the control finally shifted in her favor. She had the means to hurt him and did so without remorse. Until now.

"I'm sorry, I hurt you." A tear slipped out of her eye, followed by another and another until she couldn't stop the crying which turned into gut wrenching sobs.

"Oh, Mac." Harm pulled her to him, hugging her body into his own. He felt her tears wetting his shirt and the shakes that came with the crying that he tried to ease by running his hands up and down her back.

"Please forgive me." She said with her head buried into his chest, unable to stop then stream of tears. Mac's body practically convulsed from the sobbing, her breathing becoming erratic as every last bit of anguish bubbled to the surface. "Oh God, Harm, please forgive me...Please forgive me...Please forgive me."

She repeated the words on a seemingly endless loop until her body forced Mac to sleep.

Waking up hours later, she shifted in bed expecting to find Harm sleeping next to her. Instead, the sheets beside her were cold and empty. Carefully, Mac sat up and scrubbed a hand over her face. For the most part his apartment was eerie quiet, giving off the false pretense that she was completely alone.

Several months ago she would have welcomed the idea, but at the moment the sense of solitude and loneliness became rapidly unsettling. Mac wondered if this was what Harm felt the day she'd left him, that feeling of abandonment after they'd been intimate. It was calloused, hurtful and the anguished feeling inside her grew making her hurry out of bed in a desperate search.

She found him in the kitchen, cracking eggs into a bowl while warming a frying pan over the stove - the beginnings of an omelette. "Morning." He said softly while he filled a large coffee up to the brim and placed it at the island in the center of the kitchen that had four bar stools in front of it. "Tomato and cheese omelette sound good?"

"God, yes." Mac hadn't realized how hungry she was until the distinct smell of toasted bread wafted into her nose. Something about detox had always made her senses much more attuned as if it were a new experience. She sighed happily when the first sip of coffee assaulted her senses, the velvety smoothness washing down almost euphorically.

"It's just coffee, Mac."

She glanced at him over the brim of the large mug and shook her head in disagreement. "No _just_ about it. You don't know what I've been through. When you come out of it, everything is like a new experience."

"A new lease on life?"

"Exactly."

Oh, he understood, nearly dying a few times had changed Harm in a way. If only it had made him braver to admit his feelings for her sooner. They ate in companionable silence, Harm offering Mac half of his food when she wolfed down all of hers. "You need to put some weight on, _Stickgirl_."

She had genuinely laughed at his comment, that musically feminine Sarah MacKenzie laugh that was so addicting. It was good to see her laugh but, even you better to see the light in her eyes when Mac looked at him. She was still there, his Marine was still there.

A long yawn from her broke up their shared mirth. "Sorry, I am still pretty exhausted."

"So, get some rest. I'll lay out a T-shirt and sweats for you to sleep in."

Mac sighed, he was being too sweet with her again. "I should head back to my place. I'm okay now."

The idea made Harm frown visibly. He rather like taking care of her, sleeping next to her and the simple domesticity. "I don't want you to go."

"I have my home, my things. I can't stay here forever." She hopped off the barstool and took a few steps towards his room before stopping. Mac's apartment was something of a mess, an uncharacteristic trait considering how organized her apartment in Georgetown always ways. In fact, the only mess in her life had been work and the files that were usually strewn around her office.

In the last few months, the drinking overtook her life to the point that her home was in disarray. She would clean, when she could but, for the most part Mac was too busy to care. As it stood there were likely a few bottles of alcohol hanging around, tempting a drink.

The apartment was actually a small cottage which sat on the rear edge of the Laughery's estate in London. It kept Mac close to her assignment and yet was private enough to afford alone time. The Laughery's maid tended to the small space for a time until Mac had ordered them to stop. She didn't want anyone imposing on her private life, the last shred of control.

While cute and quaint, the cottage was lonely. Most of her possessions were left at her apartment in Washington. The cottage was bereft of items that gave a home that personal touch - no pictures or paintings or books. There was no one to welcome her save for those damned bottles of booze. It wasn't a home, not really.

Slowly she turned, taking a good look at his apartment. The place was bigger than his loft near Union Station with a bedroom that had an actual door. The kitchen was absolutely stunning the centerpiece being an island that served as a dining area with a marble countertop that stretched for several feet.

There were ceiling to floor windows, a sliding glass door that led to a small balcony adjacent to the kitchen and wrought iron stairs that led to a trap door above. The apartment had a life to it, a warmth and the subtle touches from the man who lived there.

In the living room, on the mantle of the small fireplace Mac found a series of photos most of which had previously adorned a shelf in Harm's former loft. She hadn't expected to find a picture of the two of them dancing. "Oh."

It was taken on the night of her and Mic's engagement party after Harm had kissed her so completely. When the cake was cut she had asked him to dance, needing an excuse to touch him again, to have him hold her. They kept a regulation distance, swaying back and forth to a slow love song as his eyes held hers. The game they played that night had been dangerous but, after that kiss she wasn't willing to let him go and part of her wished he would have spoken up to stop the sham of her wedding. Someone had taken the picture then, Mac in Harm's arms, his eyes intently locked on her own.

Carefully, she took the picture and ran a hand over the images. They looked good together, always had. "Who took this?"

"Bud. He found an undeveloped roll of film, most of the pictures were overexposed but that one." He moved towards her stopping a few feet short. "He mailed it to me when I moved out here, I've had it on the mantle since."

Mac stared at the picture a final time and then put it back in its place. She glanced over the other photos noticing a few more with her included: Bud Harriets wedding, Little AJ's christening, her and Harm in Afghanistan, the whole JAG staff at the last Christmas party she would attend. She missed them all, the friends that became family.

For the first time she would notice the heat coming from the fireplace. His home had a life, a warmth she hadn't felt in over a year. Suddenly, going back to the cottage seemed unappealing and cold much like her life had become. "I ah...don't want to go." Mac turned to him, offering a watery smile. "For the first time since I joined them, I feel safe." She sighed deeply, trying to admit the feelings that she'd repressed for so long. Mac needed him, wanted him, missed him. She loved him still and always would. "I feel safe with you. I want to stay with you if you'll have me."

It wasn't the affirmation of love that he was seeking, but it was a start. Before she knew it, he had her in his arms. "Stay with me."

"I will." Mac's eyes closed as her head came to rest on his shoulder. When his arms tightened around her, she made a silent promise to never leave him again.


	9. You and I

Thank you for the reviews. I know this story is rough and dark. honestly? After NCIS, dark is me.

Next few chappies will be a lot of HM domesticity. Mac finding herself and healing. There will be some back and forth but, no more running away from him. They will be a love scene soon... for now its a non-love love scene. Kissing is okay right? ;-)

**Chapter 9 - You And I**

_I know it's warmer where you are_

_And it's safer by your side_

_But right now I can't be what you want_

_Just give it time_

_And if you and I_

_Can make it through the night_

_And if you and I_

_Can keep our love alive, we'll fight_

**-"You And I" by Pvris**

Clayton Webb sat on a chair situated in front of a panel made up of a five by ten foot long screen. Several images were projected - some of surveillance on specific assets, others of topographical maps along with information about ongoing assignments.

None of the segments had information on Sarah MacKenzie. It was like she disappeared. He heaved a sigh and pulled out his cellphone from his breast pocket, dialing the necessary code for his voicemail. Retrieving his saved messages, he accessed the one over a week old.

'Clay, it's Mac. I need a few personal days. Don't ask questions, I don't have answers. I'll call you. Thanks.' Her speech was slurred, as it had been a few other times in the past several months when Mac had indulged in a drink too many.

Normally, it would take a day or two of downtime after a hard assignment and then, she would call again, ready to accept the next job. It wasn't uncommon to find an officer had a penchant for drinking, that sort of came with the territory, Clay thought ruefully as he stared the spiked mug of coffee in his hand.

Something about this felt different, like whatever control the agency once had over Mac had slipped completely. It had been his fault, Webb knew. Rather than keep Mac on the dull assignment of babysitting the rich brat of the Director's daughter, he saw an opportunity arise not too far from London.

Mac had been the closest field operative, the one he trusted more than most to get the job done. And she had only not as flawless as before. She was slipping and he ignored the signs, a mistake he wouldn't let happen again.

"Sir, London police have a hit on Widow's vehicle." A young woman, part of the five person team which ran the communications room said. She pulled the info up in screens, enlarging a satellite image of London.

He had a few explanations as to why Mac would disappear without a followup call, each worse than the other. "Pull up information on everyone that lives in that complex"

"It will take a while."

"Do you have anywhere else to be?"

"No, sir." The woman resisted the urge to roll her eyes and simply got to work, bringing up the information on the screen. "This was all I could dig up that was made public, the rest will take a lot more man power and with other assignments…"

"Understood." Clay waved her off and then stood, walking towards the large screen when one particular name jumped out at him. "Harmon Rabb, Junior." He practically spat the name out and resisted the urge to toss the mug clear across the room. "Of course, where else would she go?"

He hadn't thought to start with Harm, not when the Navy Times had misinformed that the man had been stationed in Australia. It always surprised him how the pair had a knack for gravitating towards each other, even when miles apart.

Sighing, he turned from the monitor and wordlessly left the comm room, meandering towards his office. Rabb had always been a thorn at his side and although there were a few others that Webb trusted. The man had a penchant for resolving problems as dkd Mac, which was why the pair made such a great team.

If only they weren't in love with each other.

That affection was an unnecessary commodity in there line of work. Love would cloud judgement, taking the reins over common sense that would keep you alive. Unfortunately, he'd used Rabb to find Mac in Toronto and retrieve information that was vital to the agency. He had a feeling her mind control would slip and the agency shrink could simply strengthen the hold.

Clay never expected Mac to become so hardened and reckless. He tried to help her, to fix things only to realize Harm was the only one that could. That fact angered him and any ground he'd covered with Mac i the last two years was gone.

She still confided in him but, the desire for something more, the hope was severed cleanly after Mac's assignment in Canada had begun to wind up. So, he lied about the only factor that could keep her in the agency - Sadik Fahd.

The terrorist had been killed while Mac was in Canada only the information was kept classified as a way to not rouse Fahd's counterparts. It had been the worry if Sadik finding Harm that kept Mac in, a truth she shared during most therapy sessions. Dr. Gutierrez used that fear to manipulate along with the anger and resentment she'd once harboured towards Harm.

For all of his malevolent plans, Webb never thought the pair would meet again. Even when he'd told Mac she was miserable without Harm, even when he urged her to make amends with the Naval Officer - Clay would stake his life on them staying far apart.

In fact, he'd orchestrated it, sending Mac to London while Rabb would be spending several years in Australia. "Damn you, Rabb." He cursed and pulled open a drawer taking out a bottle of Flor de Caña. The amber liquid came halfway into his empty coffee mug and Webb contemplated filling it to the brim.

To make matters worse Director Laughery would barely let him breathe. She was a champion of Mac's and was always concerned with her well being. Any tricks Webb could conjure up would have to wait.

With a rough sigh, he pulled out his phone and called Mac. "Colonel, it's Webb… You need to contact me. it's been too long. I'm worried. Laughery is going to have my ass if you don't reappear pronto." He pressed 'end' and then stared at the liquor in his mug.

He needed to get Sarah away from Rabb, for her sake. But, how?

**Harm's Flat**

**London**

When Harm woke, he found Mac laying on her side, back to him. They had shifted apart in sleep and the robe that she never changed out after showering, slipped enough for him to see her upper back. There were marks over her skin, scars that she'd hidden, despite the open back dress she wore at the ball. His jaw set as he saw the lines disappearing beneath the terry cloth, running diagonally from one shoulder, the one that already bore the marks from a previous assignment. He reached a hand towards her, the tips of his fingers barely moving over one jagged end and then another.

He twitched in anger, a raw hatred to end the life of whoever did this to her. The want to protect Mac grew exponentially when he pulled the robe to expose more of her skin and the angry lines that stretched to her hip.

Harm traced each line with his fingertips, willing his touch to heal her and erase the marks on otherwise flawless skin. His touch elicited a moan from her when he spread his palm over her back to caress the skin he'd dreamt about.

And overwhelming need to kiss her is what eventually had him press his lips to the side of her neck, a spot he enjoyed indulging in when they'd first been intimate. He swore he would kiss her once and then pull away to the opposite side of the bed, Mac needed her rest but, when she arched against him he just couldn't stop himself.

Mac awoke to the feeling of his lips on her neck, tongue licking her pulse point and sending a wave of desire through her body. She arched against him urging the continuation of something she believed to be a dream. One of his hands was resting on her hip, stroking slightly over the raised skin marred with an ugly mark. She threaded that hand with hers and guided him over her hip, past her abdomen and lower.

"Yes." She opened her legs for him, surprised at the heat that began to pool so quickly when he'd barely touched her. "Harm." Breathless in a matter of seconds, Mac gave into the feel of him cupping her mound, the need to be consumed by him. He was the headiest of drugs and perhaps the most deadly. Christ, did she dream of him, fantasize. Her mind often played their last encounter at the Ritz on an endless loop when he'd tirelessly said that he loved her.

Harm's fingers began to stroke her, slowly teasing as his lips continued to nuzzle her neck. She pushed her herself into his palm moaning when one of his fingers moved inside. "Oh, Harm." When his thumb brushed over her clit, she nearly convulsed from the sensation.

She was panting, sweating, gripping onto the sheets when he curled a finger inside hitting a specific spot that was beginning to send her over the edge. And then she heard his voice cut through the heady haze of an impending climax. Harm had been silent until then, concentrating on pleasing her. But, when he spoke it was like a bucket of ice cold water was thrown over her. This was not a dream.

"I love you, Sarah." This time, it was real, not the reproduction of a night that tormented her so much. Harm was here, real and slowly burning her up inside. "I love you, so much."

"No. No. No!" She pushed him away, scrambling off the bed and practically running into the bathroom and locking herself inside. "Oh God." Mac pressed her back against the door, sliding down until she was seated on the ground with his robe pooled around her. Her breath was rough, raging as she tried to control herself and the untempered desire Harm brought to life. She tried to stop the shaking and taper the ache between her thighs that was so painful, she ruefully wondered why she hadn't let him finish.

Mac was almost tempted to finish herself off but, when her hand began to dip down to stop the ache, she pulled away as a method of self imposed torure - punishment for her weakness, her mistake. _'There Will Never Be An Us.'_

No! She didn't want that either, the mantra would only hurt him, bring more pain. That part of her life had to be reigned in until needed, it had no part between her and Harm.

Choking on a sob, she brought her hands up to her head, squeezing hard when a specific headache came online forcing her to rock back and forth. Something inside urged her to run and put as much Distance between herself and Harm. She nearly headed that call but her promise to him broke through the cloudy judgement. "Stop. Stop. Please, stop. I don't want to hurt him anymore." Mac begged the voices in her head.

"Mac? I'm sorry." Harm was growing concerned as the minutes ticked on, ten to be exact since she'd run away from him. He could hear the sobbing, the incoherent words that made no sense. He felt like a jerk, a sick son of a bitch that couldn't stave off his desires. Mac was the strongest of women that he knew, but that didn't mean she couldn't be equally fragile. "Mac, let me in. Please."

"Leave me alone." He heard her say once the crying had stopped. Turning slightly, she pressed her own palm against the door, swearing she could feel him on the other side. She wanted him to hold her again, drive away whatever demons still lingered within her, but Mac also knew he couldn't always be her safety blanket. "I'm sorry. I just… I need to be left alone."

"Okay." He could feel his heart breaking, a theme Harm was getting used to when it came to her. He was dying to break down the door, barge in and demand she explain things to him. Instead, he stood and stepped away knowing force wouldn't work with her. "I'm going to make dinner. I'll give you some space." Reluctantly, he left the bedroom, retreating to the sanctity of his kitchen.

Over an hour later she made her way to the kitchen wearing a pair of his sweats that he'd left folded on the bed for her. "Harm? I...I'm sorry… I just...I don't want to hurt you and...I...I'm sorry."

She positively drowned in his clothes and yet, it was the cutest thing he'd ever seen. Mac leaned against a counter and motioned to the large pot Harm was stirring. "What smells so divine?"

"Chicken, wild rice and veggie soup. It's almost done." He said and then grabbed two large bowls from the cupboard which he sat next to the stove. "Mac, you shouldn't be apologizing...what happened I didn't mean to…"

"I wanted to, I wanted _you_ it's…I'm scared." The last words were spoken low and ragged as if they cost her something.

"Scared? Of me?"

Angrily, Mac brushed at an errant tear. "No! I could never be scared of you. It's me, I'm such a fucking mess...I…" She trailed off on an annoyed sigh and warred yet again with the urge to flee. Instead Mac folded her arms across her chest defensively and stood her ground. Harm had to know the truth, he deserved that much from her. "I don't remember everything when slept together the first time. It's all jumbled thoughts."

"I recall pleading with you to stop although I didn't want you to...And these headaches, voices." _'There will never be an us.'_

Harm frowned, he had seen the pain from her headaches and couldn't imagine what he put her through. "Headaches?"

She nodded. "It's supposed to be a tool, like a warning when the control starts to slip. The problem is that I only get them around you. They start gradually and can become excruciating." Absentmindedly, Mac rubbed her temple although the headaches seemed to taper along with her addiction.

"If...When we're together again I want to remember with no regrets. Nothing between us...I want to be with you but…" Mac thought back to that evening at the Ritz, the endless source of sadness that was etched into the very fiber of her being. She shouldn't have slept with Harm then, especially knowing she was leaving him. Mac never thought it would hurt her too, she couldn't account for the fact that he'd made her feel so much. "...I need to be okay. I just… I don't know when that will be."

"I think I understand."

"Do you?"

Harm nodded. "Sort of. Okay, not really." He admitted with a grin when Mac rolled her eyes at him. "Look, I'm not going anywhere...I'll wait forever for you." His words should have soothed her, instead, she frowned. "What is it?"

"And what if I'm never ready?"

"Mac…"

"What if you get tired of waiting?" The idea terrified her, the notion that Harm would grow weary and leave. Not that she could fault him, it wasn't fair that he'd be saddled with a half-woman, slightly manic. She wouldn't blame him if he ran far away from her, he should run as fast as possible and never look back. Mac wrapped her arms tightly around herself, hoping to stop a sudden chill. "I can't be what you want, not right now."

"Mac." Harm stepped to her, hands moving up ans down her arms to stop her from shivering. "I'm not going anywhere. Just give us a chance." His arms came around her waist, pulling Mac against him and then, Harm kissed her softly. It was the chastest of sweet kisses, a gentle affirmation that hr would never abandon her. "Promise me you won't run away."

"I promise." When Harm made to pull away, Mac's arms raised and wrapped around his neck. She pulled his body flush against hers, moaning when Harm pressed her against the kitchen island and kissed her harder.

His lips moved over hers and his own moan caught in his throat when Mac's tongue brushed against his. A tension began to build between them, the air charged with their mutual desire. It was sheer willpower that forced Harm to stop and remember that she wasn't ready. With a sigh, he pressed a soft kiss on her cheek. "I got. Carried. Away." He punctuated with a kiss on her chin, nose and finally, her lips. "Sorry."

"Don't apologize. It was nice, something we should do again." She blushed at her admission and the way her body moved into his.

Harm moved away when her arms tied to snake around his waist. They had entered a dangerous territory and he needed to put some space between them. "Kissing is just as intimate, if not more so than making love. We'll get carried away."

"You're too much of a gentleman."

He was touched that she thought of him that way but, then he was also just a man with wants and needs. And, damnit did he want her. "We were milliseconds away from losing ourselves." Harm pointed out with a grin.

"But we didn't." No, they didn't and to make her point, Mac moved towards him and placed a quick peck on his lips.


	10. See Me

This story has taken a few turns that it was never meant to but, I promise, less angst for a bit. More Harm and Mac sweetness. Poor girl is a mess.

The ending is written which means I now have to fill in the rest. Oh joy!

In other news, this week has been incredibly hard and depressing on the emotional front. Music has always been a fabric of me, sometimes what makes me tick. It's my art and often the muse which bring stories to life for better or worse.

This week, a light of the music world dimmed as Marie Fredriksson, half of Roxette, passed away after a long battle with cancer. It is, quite literally, like losing a family member. As her partner from Roxette said (using the lyrics of one of my fav songs) "Things will never be the same."

So the title of this one is a demo composed by Marie that was originally released as a B-side.

Tack för alle sånger!

**Chapter 10 - See Me**

_"I'm leaving my heart in the palm of his hand_

_So gently_

_I know he knows that I love him_

_Though I've never said, is there an easy way?"_

"See Me" by Roxette

"Penny for your thoughts?" Mac's head was resting against Harm's shoulder and one of his arms wrapped around her as they sat on his sofa. She could practically hear the wheels turning in his head which begun spinning sometime after dinner.

He'd become somewhat distant and Mac was beginning to fear that the last few days had finally gotten to Harm. Caring for her couldn't have been easy, the parts she remembered were horrifying and shameful; her treatment of him appalling. Lesser men would have left, saved their sanity before it was too late.

"I don't wanna talk about it." Harm hadn't meant to brush her off but, the thoughts running through his head were far too dark and consuming, something he knew she didn't need more off. "I'll be alright."

Mac sighed heavily. "What's going on here?" Given the way he held her, the way they had kissed earlier, the way he touched her intimately left little for her to doubt. If the man didn't want her, he would have run far away by now. "Are we an _us_, now? Because..."

"I thought you said there would never be an us?" He cut her off, not knowing just how much weight those words carried,realizing his mistake when Mac's body stiffened and her head snapped up.

_'There would never be an us.'_

A light headache kicked to life, a reminder of a world that wouldn't let her go. There was no catharsis from it, no medication to stop that particular addiction.

"Please don't say those words, you really don't know what they mean or what they're for." Or what they could do to her if she didn't stifle their dominance. She had begun to push him away, a steely anger rising inside until his grip tightened around her waist.

His fingers slipped slightly under the sweatshirt, the touch of his skin on hers the only thing pausing the torment that would surely follow. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that."

The headache began to shift, defined as a light drumming at the base of her skull that was promptly sweeping through her head. Mac buried her face into his shoulder in an effort to dull the ache. "What did you mean then?"

"I'm sorry, I am… I just… There's so much about you I don't know anymore."

"And so much I can't tell you."

Harm sighed, he had so many questions for her, so many things he wanted to talk about. But, there was one detail that gnawed at him from the moment he'd seen them. The empirical evidence that she wasn't a JAG officer anymore: "Those scars. The ones on your back." Although healed, some of the marks were raised and rough; Harm could still feel the jagged edges on his fingertips. He hoped they didn't hurt and it bothered him that they might still. "Why? How?"

"Dull knife." _Thank God_, Mac thought. Her attacker was a dumbwitted bodyguard of an assignment that had been boring and predictable until the partner she'd been saddled with screwed up. A new recruit too brash, too eager to please that shot from the hip and got himself (and nearly Mac) killed. "The bastard got a few shots in before I got away. Knife was too dull to cause much damage."

"Sharp enough to leave permanent marks." He reminded her as his fingers itched to touch the scars again, to heal her. "Why weren't they visible at the ball? That dress had an open back."

"Tattoo cover up will hide a multitude of sins." She said casually, knowing that wouldn't appease him, the question which still burned Mac answered with a flat, "It's classified." It was a phrase she hadn't wanted to use, one that would upset him, she was sure. "You don't have to like it."

"Good, because I don't."

Mac raised her head to look at him. Harm's jaw was set and he was grinding his teeth so hard it was audible. "Harm, we can't keep getting upset about the past."

"I can." He shifted on the sofa, turning slightly to look at her. "I shouldn't have let you go… That night you came to tell me about Paraguay... I should have stopped you, begged you...I..."

She pressed her fingers against his lips. "This isn't your fault. You didn't do anything wrong." He didn't argue although Mac could see the fight in his eyes. "I needed to get away for a bit, I just never thought…"

They had been doing so well up to Christmas, moving as one, spending countless hours together both in and out of the office. Mac would have staked her life on them becoming a couple, the fledgling romance ushering in the New Year. Once January came and went, traded insults on the judiciary stained whatever rhythm they had - everything crumbled. The closeness that had become commonplace was carried away like leaves in the wind.

And then the unthinkable happened - his arrest, the investigation that followed and the hurt from how he mishandled the investigation of Singer. He had shut her out completely leading Mac to believe that he may have spent a night or two in Loren's arms. Worst was the thought that he could have fathered her child and the promise between them would be broken forever.

It was a moment of faulty judgement on her part but, given how guilty Harm acted, she couldn't help the hurt or resentment. She kept her distance, followed orders like a good Marine and practically jumped at the chance of escape - a mission without Harm.

She needed the distance to put her feelings for him into some sort of perspective. Mac promised herself that a last ditch effort was warranted once she rotated back to Washington. She would push him, offer her heart to him and pray Harm wouldn't break it.

Paraguay took it all away from her.

Paraguay. To many, the country was their home. To Mac it was pure Hell, a place she wished would cease to exist on a map - the root of all Evil.

"I never intended for things to go this far. An assignment or two and then I'd be back at JAG, with you." Or that the Brotherhood would seize her life. Or that she'd willingly allow them to screw with her mind.

_'There will never be an us.'_

_No_. She tensed at the thought of her mantra and the headache that thumped harder forcing Mac to rub her temples and breathe deeply in hopes the want to run would wane before her body went into overdrive.

"Headache?" Harm's voice cut through the mental fog as did his hands that moved to her neck, massaging tight muscles. His touch was a familiar type of magic that brought back such fond memories. Somehow, he always knew when she was hurting and was always willing to ease her discomfort. "I meant what I said earlier, when we were in bed...the part about loving you."

_'In bed.'_ The way he said the words sent a lick of desire through her. His proximity was dangerous, making Mac want to do things with him that she wasn't ready for. "Harm."

"No, Mac. I need you to listen to me." He came to the edge of the sofa and turned to fully face her. The words that had eluded him for years came freely although his hands shook out of fear that Mac would reject him. "I love you.. I love you and I want to fix this, figure things out. To be an us."

_'There will never be an…'_

Before the mantra took control, Mac did the only thing that came to mind, the one act that ceased the increasing pain in her head; she touched him. "Harm." The contact of her hands that she brought to either side of his face was like a healing balm. When her lips touched his, a blast of pain brought the finality of the current headache. She moaned from the pain and still leaned in to kiss him gently

His lips moved with her own slowly, deeply, seconds away from taking more than she was willing to give. "We can't keep kissing when I want you so much." He admitted when Mac pulled away and he stilled his hands that had wanted to strip that sweatshirt from her body.

"You're a gentleman, you wouldn't do something I don't want."

Like force himself on her.

"I'm just a man, Mac. With wants and needs and desires." A man who was finding it almost impossible to stay away from her. A man who wanted nothing more than to love her. "You're a temptation."

The way he was looking at her made Mac blush. His eyes took her in as if she was the only woman in the World. It was a look he'd given her before, although never this unabashed. She felt loved, cherished and desired despite her frumpy appearance. God, what she must look like and still he was proclaiming his love.

She tugged at the sweatshirt she wore and stared at him as if he'd lost his mind. "Nothing tempting about this."

"I think you look cute in them." He grinned. Mac was swimming in his sweats, his clothes which were far too big forcing her to roll up the sleeves.

"Cute, huh?"

"Yeah, cute. Adorable, really." To make his point Harm took one of her hands and raised to his mouth, pressing featherlight kisses to her knuckles.

"Well, as cute as you think I look, I need to stop by my place, pack some clothes." And leave the rest. There was nothing much hers anyway save for the bottles of…

"Pack, huh? You thinking of moving in, Colonel?" A smug grin spread across his lips and those eyes of his shone brightly. God, how he wanted her under his roof, sharing the same bed, same living space, same...everything. He was tired of being alone, tired of living without her.

"Didn't you ask me to stay, Captain?" She grinned back, enjoying their flirtation.

"I did. Forever, if you're willing."

Only his forever came with a price - she needed to find Sadik, to end it all. Little did Mac know that there were other players in the game.

A couple of hours later, they sat in Harm's car waiting to be allowed entry to the Laughery estate. "You live here?" He looked past the gates to the large home, a mansion of sorts that appeared to be standing in that spot for centuries.

"No. There's a tiny cottage in the back. Honestly, I thought this would be a quick assignment and wouldn't need a place. Didn't think I would stay around this long." A few weeks to get her head straight and move back to field work, hopefully somewhere in Europe, far away from him. Funny how one drunken night would change things.

A tall, burly security guard stepped out of a small guard shack and made his way to their vehicle. "How can I help you?" He scowled at Harm and immediately softened once he spotted Mac sitting in the passenger seat. "Colonel! Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes." He flashed her a toothy grin and leaned into the open window. "We've missed your pretty face."

"Hey, Tom. Can you let us in?" She motioned at the gate and flashed her own charming smile along with her CIA badge as was routine. "This is Captain Harmon Rabb, US Navy, he's working with me today."

"Sure thing, sweetness." He waggled his eyebrows at her, scowled once again at Harm and headed back to the shack.

"Oh look, another member of the Sarah MacKenzie fan club." Harm snorted, struck with a distant thought of everyone being 'a little bit in love' with Mac.

"Jealous, flyboy?"

"Insanely." He admitted grumpily as he drove the car past the gates and followed her directions to the rear of the estate coming to a stop right in front of the tiny building.

She didn't exit the vehicle right away, merely stared out of the window with concern of what she would find inside. The bottles, the mess. Her mess. It was embarrassing. "You should stay in the car, I won't be long." The thought to run inside and lock the door behind her before Harm could follow was thwarted as he'd already hopped out of the vehicle and came around to open the door for her.

"You don't want me to go in there." He stated the obvious, pausing when Mac finally moved out of the car and took a few lazy steps towards the cottage.

She cringed at the thought of the small space that had been left in an almost complete disarray. The bottles of bourbon that were never thrown away haphazardly strewn through the cottage, an embarrassing reminder of how deep she'd fallen. Knowledge of those empty bottles haunted Mac as they traveled across town, making her chew on her inner cheek when she formulated a plan to keep Harm out. He didn't need to see the mess. She didn't want the pity he would surely give or worse, the disappointment.

"It's a mess."

Harm snorted at her admission believing it to be nothing more than a 'chic-thing.' The woman was a Marine, far too squared away to the point that Mac's apartment in DC never had a single item out of place. Her afghan was always thrown a certain way, books alphabetized on the shelf by the door sorted by author and grouped together if they were a series.

The few times he'd seen her bedroom the bed was always made with tight, hospital corners that he was sure a DI could bounce a quarter on. There was never a speck of dust and her coffee table had always been polished to a shine that accentuated the wooden top. "Your place has never been messy a day in your life... your office on the other hand..." He nudged her playfully and then bounded up the three steps that led up to the door.

It was one of the facets he loved about Mac. The squared away Marine with an office so messy it was almost impossible to find a damned thing. A 'free fire zone' he'd labeled it once, mortified that her filing system was a little more than non-existent. Somehow, she knew where most things were, a fact that awed him.

"Mac? What's wrong?"

"Don't pity me. I did this to myself." She said cryptically and finally entered with Harm in tow.

_Oh Mac. _Harm thought when he followed her inside. While the place was not in complete disarray it wasn't characteristic of Mac to be so careless. The first thing he spotted was the rifle and two pistols laying out in the open atop a coffee table. Jars of chemicals that were used to clean the weapons had been left open aside a small pile of dirty cleaning patches and a rolled up bore snake.

Piles of clothing were thrown over the back of the sofa, a combination of business suits and sportswear. Decorative pillows lined the floor. Her bed that was set against the rear wall of the open space looked like a tornado had landed on the bedding sheets had been ripped off of it and dropped carelessly onto the carpeted floor.

What hurt the most were the bottles of bourbon and wine, one of which Harm grabbed from the coffee table to find it nearly empty.

_Oh Mac._

Despite what they'd been through in the last few days this was a clear indication of how badly she'd fallen and how long it had gone on. It made Harm hurt for her and the ever present anger towards Webb and the agency grew just a tad more. They had ruined her, taken what was good about Mac and turned it into something reckless and threatening.

Wordlessly, he moved past the living area and to the kitchen where he opened up all of the cabinets to find them sparse with food.

"Harm, don't." Mac warned when he located a trash bag and ruffled it open.

"You may need to come back here one day.." He waved a half empty bottle of bourbon, its liquid sloshing noisily inside. "You're not coming back to this." His tone left no room for argument.

Mac stood by and watched him for a moment, why did she expect any less of him? He'd always done a good job at being there for her although it sometimes came with judgement. But then, wasn't that what friends were for? To not sugarcoat things.

He'd been the one to point out how mean of a drunk she was. He'd also been the one to rescue her, both from a stalker and her own demons. And now he was rescuing her again.

A blinking red light from a side table caught her by surprise and Mac cringed once she realized what it was.

_Shit._

_Webb._

She'd all but forgotten about him and the routine calls to ensure her safety. True, she'd asked for time off but, never as long as this. With a sigh, she grabbed the flip phone and tugged it free from the charger. "Widow-One-Nine-Seven-Nine." Mac spoke into the receiver as she slipped outside hoping Harm wouldn't notice.

It took several long minutes for the call to connect and once it did she heard Webb barking over the line. "Where the hell have you been, MacKenzie?! A few days off, fine...it's been over a week!"

"Gee, dad, relax. I needed to get my head in check."

"You didn't have to drop off the face of the Earth!" He was yelling and it only stopped once he realized the feisty Marine wasn't yelling back. She would normally put him in his place, pick a fight, instead, the line was eerily silent, her breathing the only thing alerting Webb that Mac was still on the line. "Look, sorry… Are you okay?"

"Somewhat… the...well, the drinking got out of control." She admitted cringing that it sounded so blase. It was far from out of control; she'd hit rock bottom and dove deeper for good measure. Mac wanted to die, coming so close to taking her own life that it frightened her beyond belief. "I ah...It wasn't...wasn't good."

"Are you okay?"

"Getting there."

"Do you need me to fly over?" Webb gripped his phone, hoping she would agree to need his comfort. "I can be there as soon as possible, make sure that…"

"I'm with Harm." She cut him off and a disappointed "Oh" carried over from his side of the line.

The disappointment was palpable in Clay's tone of voice. "So, Rabb's taking care of you then?"

"Would you expect anything else?"

"No. He's a boy scout that way." And always would be with a moral compass that would likely shatter if he ever found out exactly all the ins and outs of Mac's field assignments. He was sure Harm would be mortified of the path she'd paved in blood, the seduction of men to get her way.

"He's my best friend."

And then some. With the way Mac had been sulking a few months prior, it was clear that she and Harm had become intimate. "Are you still up to leading Laughery's security detail?" He tried to change the topic to steer her back to work and a sure control he could wield without effort. All he needed was access the mind control they had over her and it would not be long before Rabb was hated again. It wasn't fair to her, he knew and the control could have permanent damage if pushed too hard. But, he preferred her hating the boy scout over the woman that had pined for him once she returned from Canada.

Rabb didn't know how to love her, never would, in his opinion. She needed adventure and adrenaline, something that only Clay and the agency could offer. "Mac? The Director wants you there. It's easy work."

Annoying but easy and it would allow her to stay in London with Harm, something that field work would not allow. "Any news on Sadik?" A headache began to manifest itself at the thought of the terrorist that had eluded capture for so long. How many years would it take to bring him in? Although, for Mac, the threat would not be erased until he died by her hand.

"Spotted in Jakarta." He lied.

"Disappeared again? How does this keep happening?"

"He's a chameleon, can be anyone he chooses. We may never catch him."

_'Never' _There was that word again, holding more weight than it should. There were many agents living in and around London, a plethora of avenues she could turn to in search of Sadik. Mac didn't need the agency for that, she had her own contacts and resources all she had to do was stay in the UK. "Yeah Clay, put me back on security. And Clay? If something else comes up in the region, put me in play."

"Understood, welcome back Widow."

Mac closed the phone and held it in her hand staring at the device as if it held the answers she was looking for. She sat on the steps of the cottage and glanced to the main estate which looked so gothic against the continual gloomy skies.

"You're planning on staying in?" Harm had eavesdropped on half of the conversation and was unapologetic about it. "I'm not stupid to believe that you'd leave them but…"

"I don't have where to go." A sad fact that Mac had to admit outloud, the feeling of drifting alone at sea. At least the agency was something of a tether, someone there cared about her whereabouts. "My life at JAG is over, I wouldn't even remember how to file an article 32."

"You could get that back, I can get you stationed here, maybe the judiciary? It's like riding a…"

She wasn't listening. "I've tried private law. I'd rather have a root canal without anesthetics ...this is what I know now, this is my life for now…"

Harm sat next to her on the steps and when he tried to drape an arm around her shoulders, Mac shrugged him off. "This is all about Sadik Fahd isn't it?"

"Yes. Until he's captured or I kill him."

"Then what?"

"Honestly? I don't know." Mac wanted him, she felt lost without him but, she wasn't the same anymore. Eventually, her assignments would kick into high gear, forcing Mac to leave for several months at a time. He would tire of that, of her and eventually Harm would leave; they always left her no matter how in love they claimed to be.

She stared at Harm who was playing with his academy ring, a telling sign of the nervous energy he felt. God, she wanted nothing more than to be wrapped in his arms, consumed by him, loved by him and never go back. "What are we doing here, Harm? Playing house? Pretending to be a couple?"

"Pretending? I'm not pretending."

"I can't be the woman you want. I'm not a housewife…"

"Woah, woah, woah. I do _not_ want a housewife. Don't insult me." He stood then, angrily pushing himself up and taking a few steps away from her. Harm's hands cMe to his hips as the frustration began tk grow. He was losing her again. "We can figure it out, all of it."

'_There will never be an us.'_

"We couldn't make it work then, how are we gonna make it work now?" The cold emptiness began to sweep through her like a deadly plague taking everything good about them and destroying it bit by bit. Deep inside, Mac was in agony. Things wouldn't end well with them, she knew. And when she lost Harm, as she believed would happen eventually, any good that was left would disappear with him.

"Mac, do you believe in fate?"

"No… I don't… It hasn't been kind to me."

But, he did because the more things tried to keep them apart, the more they came together. I was like the universe had a design for two stubborn people and wouldn't stop until it was fulfilled. "It brought us together."

"No, my uncle's stupid mission did and Webb."

"Why did you stay? You could have gone back to your old post." He knew the reason and it lay in the fact that rhey clicked from the start. Despite her likeness to Diane, there was something uniquely captivating about Mac that forced Harm to put in a good word for her. Hell, he practically begged Chegwidden to have her fill Lt. Austin's spot. "Answer me, Mac. Why did you stay?"

"I stayed for _you_." She admitted ruefully. It hadn't been the advancement opportunities or the promise of big cases. It was him and that instant connection that breathed new life into her. "I stayed because I was infatuated with you." There was no one like him and there would never be. "I also liked our dynamic. I knew you would make me a better investigator and lawyer and you did."

"Then let me help you now." Harm squatted before Mac and took her hands in his. "Give this a chance."

"Right, what happens when your obsession with me is gone?"

Her words hit its intended target and all Harm could do was stare. An odd type of anger washed over him as did the feel of being insulted. It would have hurt less if she'd slapped him. "This isn't an obsession, Sarah. I'm in love with you."

"Stop saying that!" Mac hadn't realized she'd been crying until his thumb swept over her cheek, brushing the tears away. "You think you love me but, you don't."

When he pulled her into his arms, Harm was relieved she didn't fight him. As much as he wanted to shake some sense into her, he rationalized the push and pull for what it was: PTSD. "I do love you. I'm done hiding my feelings for you, all it caused was pain and heartache.. I'm not doing that again… Do you love me?"

She did love him, always would. "Harm...Please don't do this."

"I know you do… I see it when you look at me, you can't hide it any better than I could."

Mac clung to him as her body shook from the sobs. The crying was a catharsis she didn't know she needed and, in his arms, his soothing touch began to heal her again. "I'm sorry… I just.."

"It'll be alright." He pressed a kiss at the crown of her head. "Let's finish here and go back to our place."

_Our place._

Just two simple words shifted something inside of Mac. She raised her head up and looked at him, a genuine smile spreading across her lips. "Our place, huh? I like the sound of that."


	11. Whatever We Started

Wow, this chapter took a while to put together. There's a few elements going on, Mac realizing she's still in love with Harm. Her comforting him came out of the blue, it was kind a full circle type of deal. And their domestic life is a bit of a challenge. - CB had mentioned somewhere that we, the fans, would not be interested in the day to day of Harm and Mac. (I forget how it was phrased) Yeah, you're wrong girl! Hell, I would pay just to have a 1 minute scene of them brushing their teeth next to each other.

Webb... oh Webb... He really wasn't gonna be a bad guy but,... it happens.

**Chapter 11 - Whatever We Started**

_We can't stop whatever we started_  
_Can't resist what's meant to be_  
_Forget whatever we promised_  
_I want you all over me_  
_Let's do it now and don't think_  
_Look in my eyes and don't blink_  
_We can't stop whatever we started_

"Whatever We Started" by Richard Marx

"Is there room for two?" Steam billowed out from his shower door as a very naked Sarah MacKenzie stepped inside without an invitation. She stood a foot away, hands on her hips, bearing her body to him, daring Harm to do whatever he wanted. No other woman turned him on this easily especially when her hungry eyes followed the rivulet of water that drizzled from his neck to his chest and lower.

She stepped closer, enough so that Mac's tongue could follow the same trail the rivulet had gone, licking and kissing her way down his torso until she took him in her mouth. "Oh, Mac." Harm tried not to buckle against her or drop to the floor when she rhythmically moved over him.

The sensation of her mouth on his hardness had his legs shaking from the strain of staying upright. He watched her through hooded eyes, knowing that she was taking pleasure in pleasing him until he felt his body start to tense more. Roughly, he pulled Mac to her feet and then crushed her od against his as they shared a searing kiss. His hands moved over her slick skin, caressing every curve he encountered.

"I love you." Mac said between kisses, repeating the words over and over only to gasp when Harm turned them so that her back was pressed against the tiles. "I want you inside me." One of her legs came up hooking over his hip as her hand came between them seeking his erection and the need to join them. "I love you…"

It was the brush of Mac's hand on his member that Harm wake with a start. He shot up in bed, panting, heart racing like a galloping horse and when he glanced around the room he was alone. Mac was not there. "Ugh." Erotic dreams of her, of them, had been haunting him since he last tasted her skin - back in Canada when he believed she would never leave again. "Fuck." He groaned, staring down at his lap with distaste and the 'tent' that was created with his sheets. The erotic dreams had become infrequent since sharing the same living space but, when he dreamed of her it felt so real, so detailed.

Harm reached across the bed, frowning when he found her side cold and empty. He instantly missed waking next to Mac's warm, female body, her soft curves that molded into his. Most of the nights she'd lay beside him, nestled in his arms. Other nights they would start on opposite ends of the bed and yet, gravitate towards each other before morning. Usually he hated sleeping in such close proximity to a woman. Cuddling, while nice for a time could seem positively stifling and claustrophobic until he lay next to Mac. Now he craved the contact, the feel of her nestled against him.

And then there was the scent that lingered on his sheets, her scent on his pillows and even the clothes he wore. She was everywhere, from the bra hanging behind the bathroom door, to the girlie smelling body washes in the shower, to the USMC coffee mug that resided next to his USN mug in the kitchen cupboard. Harm welcomed the domesticity and coming home each day to a woman he adored more than he could verbalize. It came with a sort of ease how they fell into step like something of a happily married couple. Mac still had issues, the occasional panic attacks and headaches that he didn't know how to cure but, he was there when she needed him and stepped aside when she claimed he was smothering her. He loved her, plain and simple.

The smell of coffee alerted him to her whereabouts and after a cold shower, Harm walked out the the living area to find Mac frantically typing on a laptop which was et atop the kitchen island. The smell of sweet cinnamon wafted from the toaster, her favorite type of bagel that she would then smother with cream cheese. Fresh cut fruit was crammed inside of his blender, a sign she was about to make his morning smoothie when he walked up. "Hey." He said grumpily as he settled into one of the bar stools with a huff.

"Good morning, flyboy." She cheerfully greeted him with a smile which quickly turned into a scowl when a 'ping' sounded from the computer, an alert that a message had been received. "Did you sleep okay? You were out cold when I got up."

Harm's eyes ran over her, noting the business attire Mac wore, a white short sleeved blouse and a navy blue skirt. Draped over one of the bar stools, he spotted the jacket to match and a pair of heels on the floor alongside her briefcase. This did not bode well. "You're dressed."

"Nothing gets by you." She teased and raised her head from the laptop to look at him. "I need to head into the field office."

"On a Saturday?" No, this definitely did not bode well. The warning bells went off actually, it was more of a siren blaring in the depths of his mind. "Why?"

"Bad guys don't take a break just cause it's the weekend." Mac turned to the toaster and plated her bagel, slathering it with enough cream cheese to cause a heart attack (his words not hers) and then poured coffee into his mug, sliding across without cream or sugar. First thing in the morning, he liked his coffee strong, undiluted just as long as it was not Marine grade. "It's drinkable, I promise." She took a sip from her own mug, carefully watching Harm over the brim. There was something troubling him, no doubt the information she just passed and the ramifications of a new assignment.

They had been on a honeymoon of sorts suspended in false pretense that the outside world had no way to touch them. Life had gone on after she'd recovered well enough to head the security detail Mac had previously been assigned to. Harm had his command and as such the constant traveling during investigations were handled by the officers under him. It left more room for them and the parts of a relationship that needed to work in order to build a lasting bond. "What's wrong?"

Harm turned his head to stare at the small dining table which had been decorated once he stumbled into the apartment at just after 2400. It was now devoid of the flowers and candles, its surface completely clean save for a decorative vase that stood in the middle. "Last night. I was a bit...out of sorts. I'm sorry."

Mac's eyes followed his and thoughts of what exactly she had planned made her blush. Indeed, it was meant to be a date night only a call from Harm that he'd be impossibly late with no real reason why had changed her plans. Unfortunately, she'd been ready to be intimate with him again and the sudden change had doused her desire faster than a cold shower. She'd even cooked, purchased all of the items for ratatouille and a traditional creme brulee. The table had been tastefully decorated, adorned with candles and flowers, non-alcoholic wine chilling.

And it all began when Mac suddenly strolled into a lingerie store near Hyde Park a few days prior. She selected various frilly little things to try on, some that left zero to the imagination and a few that looked plain and boring. It made her feel empowered, sexy, feminine, descriptions that the last two years with the CIA had stripped from her. Mac knew men were attracted to her and used her feminine wiles to seduce in order to get the job done.

It made her disgusted with her own body although she'd never slept with any asset. There were just some things that Mac would not subject herself to and yet, the seduction made her feel dirty. THe past was enough to mess with her mind and even when Harm kissed her, embraced her, told her she was beautiful, the words remained suspended in disbelief.

But that day, when she stepped out of the shop with a small designer shopping bag hanging from her fingers, all she could think of was _him_. Kissing her. _Loving_ her. She smiled thinking about the look in his eyes as she stepped to him wearing the wine red lacy slip; the darkening of his eyes with desire. It turned her on and made the wheels begging to turn in her mind.

As she set the table Mac was struck with another truth, the one she'd been conveniently ignoring until she was well enough to accept it..

She was falling in love with him again.

Not that she'd ever really fallen out of love but, the control had told her to hate him - Harm wasn't good, only broke her heart and wreck her mission. He was confusing love with pity and eventually, he'd leave her like they all did. Her only home, her only reason for living was the agency and the work she did within.

_'There will never be an us'_

And when the headache tried to drum to life, she forcefully set it aside, gripping the edges of the dining table until it passed. Her mantra had no place in their home, she wouldn't allow it. The strain from stopping the pounding made a drip of blood spill from her nostril but, she'd won the battle. Only her plans had been thwarted and for the first time since they settled into their living arrangement, Mac would comfort him as the reason for why he was late played havoc on his emotions...

...Mac was asleep when Harm finally made it home and slipped into bed after a long, hot shower. She hadn't initially woken up until he shifted under the covers, turning away from her. "Harm?"

"I'm sorry. I ruined our date." He'd said softly and in the darkness of the room, though she couldn't see his expression, Mac felt something was off and it wasn't just the regrets from missing dinner.

Instinctively, she reached for him, wrapping Harm in a tight embrace when he turned to face her. His body seemed to deflate into her arms, relaxing against her when her hand slowly ran up and down his back. "Tell me. Whatever it is, tell me."

His silence made her heart squeeze, the prospect of the Navy pulling them apart becoming the forward most thought in her mind. She couldn't fathom being without him now, especially after all they'd been through - all that she put _him_ through. Everything was far from perfect, her flaws still manifesting itself from time to time but, he stayed and he loved her and she didn't want to be without him, not anymore. "I know you, Harm. Whatever it is, tell me."

Her fingers were running through the silky strands of his hair, a soothing action that made him shiver. Harm needed her contact although he didn't want to talk about what happened. "Security shot someone in my staff today."

"Shot?"

"Yes."

"On base? Why?"

Harm heaved a rough sigh, a guilt crushing him as if he'd been the man pulling the trigger. "I couldn't talk him down." Lieutenant Commander Adler was a favorite in Harm's unit, a man well on his way to an accelerated promotion and possibly a command position in the future. He was a brilliant lawyer who studied at Harvard Law and joined the Navy because he felt his skills would be better off serving the military. It all came to a screeching halt when Adler had been sent to interview his client in the brig and was attacked with a shiv made from a toothbrush. The plastic handle had been meticulously shaven down to a pointy edge was shoved into Adler's abdomen before the guards could stop the assault.

The Lt Cmdr survived, lucky that the shiv had not perforated any internal organs but Harm noted an uneasiness once Adler was fit for duty. The normally strong and confident officer was edgy, shaky only Harm didn't see how far the PTSD extended until Adler stepped into the bullpen holding a loaded weapon pointed at his head.

"He was going to kill himself...I tried to get him to relax, told him we'd get him help...He kept waving the weapon around...When he pointed it at me the MPs did what they have to do…We found out later that the pistol was empty. He couldn't go through with it so he forced them to shoot."

"Oh, Harm." Mac's arms tightened around him, cradling his head to her chest as the tears fell unabashed. She continued to caress him, her own tears falling as she heard him sob against her. "Shhh...It's okay. You did what you could."

"I'm sorry… I can't be strong for you tonight."

And he had been strong for her every day, cradling her when the occasional nightmares wouldn't let her sleep. "Let me be strong for you."

He heaved a heavy sigh and with an exhausted voice she heard him declare himself again, should she forget. "I love you, Mac." When she pressed a kiss to his forehead, something broke inside, like a dam splitting open. She loved him too, always had. But, why couldn't she say it back? I love you, too.

…. "You're thinking about last night." He reached across the island and pressed a hand to her cheek using his thumb to brush away a tear. "I'll be alright."

"I know. I just… don't want to leave you like this." She sighed wistfully and came around hopping onto the stool next to his pulling the plated bagel her way.

"So you are leaving?"

Mac shrugged. "I suppose so."

"You're excited." Harm saw a sort of spark come to life in her eyes and what he'd been fearing seemed to come to fruition - the day the agency would call her away. Duty bound as he was, Harm knew that their needs would take precedence for their love life and he'd foolishly prayed that heading the security detail would be enough.

Mac chewed thoughtfully on her bagel ignoring the headache that began to slowly build. Going back to the field meant she would have to slide back into that old persona, the one that killed without mercy or would seduce. She preferred the killing. What would happen when she returned? Would he move on if the assignment stretched for months on end? Would he still love her if he knew the inner workings of her job? Would she lose him? "Nervous, actually...I hadn't expected this. The call came in this morning. We were gonna rework the house security, set new cameras around the Laughlin property." His eyes were on her as she polished off the remainder of her breakfast and finished her coffee, the heat of his gaze branding her.

"I'm coming back to you." She said suddenly although it didn't ease the sadness in Harm's eyes. "I promised you I wouldn't leave." In fact, Mac had requested the move to London and Webb was in no position to argue when she threatened to leave the agency. As her handler, he'd been less than pleased but, he wouldn't piss off the Director who was enamored with Mac and her ability to knock some sense into her willful daughter.

Mac slipped out of the stool and draped her arms around him. "I promise, I'm coming home to you." She kissed him longingly and out of their own accord Harm's arms snaked around her, angling Mac so that her body was between his legs. When they broke the kiss she rested her forehead against his and sighed. This was harder than she thought. "I get why you love to fly… it's the adrenaline rush."

Harm snorted. Flying was nothing like spy work, her situation was far more harrowing. "Yeah, well flying a jet isn't as dangerous."

She leaned back to look at him, raising her characteristic brow. "Flying is not dangerous? Really?"

"The agency is too unpredictable… I have a flight plan, ROE." He tried backpedaling, following Mac around the island when she slipped out of his arms and returned to shut down the laptop and slip it into her bag.

"Yeah, tell that to the MIG on your six that shot after us like a bat outta hell in Russia or how about playing tag with a dirty nuke?"

Okay, maybe she had a point. "It's not like I've had people torturing me."

"I heard about your tete-a-tete with the Chinese before I joined JAG."

"I was sorta brain washed but, I don't have scars."

Mac chuckled despite the macabre nature of their conversation that was akin to a bizarre verbal stick measuring boys often engaged in. "Your knee is scarred up. And how about that chronic low back pain? Not all scars are visible."

He tried one more approach, trapping Mac against the kitchen cabinet. "Sarah." The use of her given name was still a rarity and when he used it, Mac felt her heart start to race. Carefully, Harm framed her face with his hands and a slow grin spread on his lips just before he kissed her. Mac moaned in pleasure when one of his hands dropped away only to tug the blouse out of her skirt and slip his hand under to feel her skin. Harm didn't kiss her this way often out of fear that they'd lose control and she'd spite him for it. He was patient, waiting and this time, he was desperate. "Stay. Please stay."

God how she wanted to, his plea would have worked if Webb hadn't mentioned a certain terrorist "I can't...Sadik…"

"Mac…You're obsessed. You told me once to let things go, I'm asking you to do the same."

"Harm…I can't. There's too much on the line, too many lives." His life. Her heart sank when she saw the look in his eyes, the knowledge that he'd lost as he stepped away. "Let's go away together…When I get back let's just go."

"Where?"

"Anywhere, as long as it's with you." She kissed him once again and then… she was gone.

Two Days Later

Paris, France

The Seine river was particularly spectacular at night, especially from the rooftop deck of the boat gliding effortlessly through the water. As the City of Lights danced and twinkled, the cool evening air made Mac cinch her coat a little tighter. Watching the Eiffel Tower inch closer, she was hard pressed to find a more romantic setting or a lonelier one.

She closed her eyes and imagined Harm's strong body trapping her against the railing of the deck as they kissed. It would be gentle at first and then much daring when their lips danced together. She practically felt his arms wrapping around her, his body heat keeping her warm in the cool Parisian air when he brought her body flush with his. "Harm." Mac hadn't meant to say his name out loud and yet it slipped, uttered like prayer.

It was then that the arms wrapped around her came loose and upon opening her eyes she found herself back to a disastrous reality. Harm wasn't there but Clay was, eyeing her with a steely look of jealousy that he couldn't mask. He leaned towards her, playing the doting husband to his loving wife.

Despite the bumps that plagued their trip to Paraguay, the pair successfully played the part of a married couple which was why the Director had allowed Clay back into the field. It was a curve-ball Mac wasn't expecting, forcing her to use the mantra to slip back into form.

'There will never be an us.'

It scared her how effortless it was, how simply she could become someone else and how easily she could slip out of the control. She wasn't sure if it was a good or a bad thing until now when thoughts of Harm brought out the wanton woman missing her lover.

They were lovers weren't they? Despite the abstinence from physical intimacy since that night in Canada? Her mind flashed back to that evening, the way he loved her. His words that etched into her soul: 'I love you, Sarah.'

"Are you enjoying playing 'house' with Rabb?" Clay's voice was like a needle running across a record; annoying as it brought her back to the present and the third ride on that river boat in so many hours.

The vessel was a mere 20 minutes away from docking again and Mac was losing hope that their contact would ever make themselves known. She couldn't wait to get back to the suite she'd been sharing with Webb and sink into a nice hot bath to soothe her aching body. "Didn't you tell me I was miserable without him? Hell, you were practically goading me to talk to him."

A mistake he hadn't known he was making. But then, it had been Clay's fault that Harm went to Canada, the only person who could have successfully searched for her. He'd been instrumental in securing the Phonebook and keeping Mac alive. Only Webb didn't have all the seedy details, the days that she spent in Harm's arms, the mind control once airtight that he'd fractured.

Clay figured that Mac was unbreakable and her obsession with the Naval officer was a remnant of the past, a ghost of what would never be. He had his own delusional claim to her heart forged from the weeks they'd spent in the Chaco as husband and wife. Hope lived in that singular kiss they shared and all of the subsequent times when he'd cared for her.

When traveling to London, he hadn't expected to find Mac practically living with Rabb, a fact that became evident when Clay spent a day parked outside her home only to find she never returned. He broke in that day discovering the tiny cottage unlived, all of her clothing gone.

It wasn't difficult to pinpoint her location or spy on the pair taking a slow stroll through a local park. When Harm stopped and kissed Mac, Webb felt his insides burn with jealousy. The man had no place in her current life and he would show her.

"Maybe I was wrong?" Clay looked at her, eyes locking with hers trying to find an emotion that wasn't there. The arm draped around Mac tightened when he felt her body shiver from the cold. She accepted the warmth although he felt her tense when one of his hands threaded through hers. "You look beautiful tonight."

When he leaned in to kiss her, Mac hesitated only to give in as she recalled the role she was there to play. She thought of Harm then but couldn't help but cringe when Webb's tongue tried to push into her mouth. The charade would only go so far and he pushed a boundary that couldn't be crossed. "Are you out of your fucking mind?" She whispered into his ear. The hand threaded through his lifted and pushed back at his fingers making him wince in pain.

"Just giving you what you need."

"And how would you know what that is?" She queried and found that cocky grin of his widen. For the first time she saw the real Clayton Webb and so much of the last two years began to make sense. The visits with the agency shrink had been at his urging as were the continued sessions.

The man had been relentlessly pursuing her ever since the assignment in Canada was terminated. She had thwarted each advance, laughed some of it off but now, it clicked. "I just realized something - It bothers you that you were never able to have me, doesn't it?"

"It bothers me that you change around him, like a switch… You wouldn't have to change for me, Sarah."

"Don't call me that." Mac studied him for a moment, taken aback by the sureness of his words and the determined look of a man willing to fight for her. It would have been charming had she felt any emotion other than disdain for him. "I don't love you Clay. I never will."

"Give us time." He tightened his grasp on her hand only to find Mac pulling away.

"I've loved him since we met." Mac admitted, painfully aware that she hadn't yet confessed those words to Harm. "He loves me, unconditionally." More truth.

"Unconditionally? Really?" Webb couldn't mask the sardonic grin or the way his eyes danced with mischief. "Is he still gonna love you when you tell him all the things you've done?" He said, grin widening as he glossed over past assignments. "All the people you killed? I doubt your boy scout would feel the same when he finds out about the men you seduced...Rabb's pathetically noble, too good for you. He'll toss you out like garbage and you'll come running back to me. I know you, the real you, not the watered down version you become around him."

The words sunk in painful in their delivery, a catalyst to intensify any feelings of unworthiness that Mac harbored. She managed to mask her emotions, keeping an impassive look even as she began to question Harm's intentions towards her. 'There will never be an us.' She turned away from Clay's glare and stared up at the Eiffel tower and its ethereal. nighttime lights. "You brought me here because there was a lead on Sadik. Once he's caught, I'm done playing spook. It's over."

"You've tasted the adrenaline, Sarah. Don't think you can just slip back into a normal life. It doesn't work that way." He tucked a finger under her chin and turned her head towards him. "You can run from us but, will Rabb go with you? Every move you make will be watched. Harm's a liability and, eventually, a casualty."

_Casualty._

_Harm._

Words that were never meant to be combined permeated her thoughts as a rage began to burn. She'd never thought Webb to harbor any evil intentions, he'd been instrumental in keeping her alive. But, that very moment she feared for Harm's safety and it was time to make her own intentions clear. "Let's get one thing crystal clear… If anything happens to Harm, even a scratch, I will kill you. I will gut you, make you suffer in ways Sadik never did. And just when you're at the point of death, I'll stop, give you a little break and start all over again and again and again and again. You'll pray to be back in that shack in Paraguay."

_'There will never be an us.'_


	12. The Mission

**Chapter 12 - The Mission  
**_My mission saved the world_  
_And I stood proud_  
_My mission changed the world_  
_It turned my life around_

_"The Mission" By Queesryche._

"Sonofabitch!" Mac yelled while throwing closed the door to their shared hotel room. Webb had disappeared to the bar for his routine nightcap affording her some needed alone time.

She wanted to call Harm, hear his voice calm the raging aggression that brewed through the night. Their little river cruise had led to absolutely nothing, as Mac told Webb it would. From the intel she'd found a day prior, it was clear that their mark would not show. But, she knew where to find them, had been given the exact address that was left as a message they'd collected from concierge earlier that day. They were a team which meant she had to stick to the spook like glue, pretend to be married. She detested having him touch her, the kisses, the fake embraces and now she knew why. The bastard wanted her, a thought that made Mac cringe.

Once she'd found something lovable about Clayton Webb, he'd helped them out a time or two when she was stationed at JAG. He was good at his job, somewhat. At least, he was passionate enough about his work that it warranted her following him to Paraguay….and fucked up her whole life (and Harm's) as a result.

Still, she trusted Clay, worked for him, always believing he had her best interest at heart. Now she knew the truth and the weight of it all crashed onto her shoulders imperceptibly. Mac felt like a fool.

Absentmindedly, she made a beeline for the mini fridge, pulling it open and yanking out a small bottle of Jack Daniels. Her fist wrapped around the cap, breaking the seal with an audible crack but, before she could spin it fully open, something made her stop.

"Oh, God." The small bottle dropped to the carpeted floor, some of its contents weeping out of the partially open lid. She stared at it dumbly, getting a whiff of the unique scent finding that it made her stomach both clench and churn. As she watched the alcohol spill free her hands began to shake, the urge to drink suddenly fighting the disgust she'd acquired for it. How easy it would be to take a sip or two… maybe three and numb away the evening. She counted four bottles of Jack, enough to spin her into some sort of oblivion given that she hadn't had a drop in weeks.

Hell, Webb was likely drinking himself into a stupor what did it matter if she did anyway? He still functioned, somewhat and even made deputy director although it was common place that he had spent time recovering from alcohol abuse. She wouldn't even have to drink all that much, just a sip to feel the liquid burn her throat. One sip couldn't hurt.

_Harm would be upset._ A voice inside surmised but then, Harm wasn't there to watch her six this time was he? No, he had no way to know. It would be her secret and such a sweet oblivion it would be.

_I can't do that to him._ She argued but, then she had done far worse and the idiot still stuck around.

_He loves me._ Harm loves me so much. Which was why he'd understand if she fell off the wagon and he would help her back on it again, wouldn't he? It was what he did. Webb was right to call him a Boy Scout. Even if she ripped his heart out again, Harm would keep coming back. It was pathetic in a way.

_Harm isn't pathetic and this, all of this is not fair to him._ Life wasn't fair. If it were she'd still be in JAG, still his partner not traipsing around the World killing people while involved in the dangerous work of espionage.

_I love him. I know I do. I love him so much._ But, she hadn't told him. Mac never would because it would break what was left of the control. She needed it like the air she breathed, her dark friend that kept her alive. _'There will never…'_

"Stop… Stop… Stop!" Mac was yelling now, holding her head in her hands as she paced the suite trying to make the warring voices stop. Was this how insanity began, with an arguing of wills? She felt something warm slide down a nostril which she confirmed with a swipe of her hand - it was blood. Rubbing her thumb over her fingers, she watched as the red liquid became sticky, transfixed at how the color looked on her skin. "God, what's happening to me?"

Her hands began to shake and she felt the hot sting of tears forming in her eyes. She clasped her shaking hands together, gripping tightly in effort to gain some control. Her breath was raging, lungs tightening, heart slamming against her chest in the vestiges of a panic attack. Racing across the room, she pulled open the balcony needing the cold to assault her senses and stop the manic episode. Mac took several gulps of the cool Parisian air, heaving breath after breath when her vision began to tunnel.

Deep inside, a voice taunted her, showing her the way to reign in the control and right her ship. She was unable to stop it or the headache that began, one Mac foolishly believed would have disappeared along with her addiction. But, it was still there, always a part of her, better than her addiction and much more effective.

And then the words assembled in her brain, piecing together the fragments like parts of a puzzle.

_'There...will...never...be...an...us.'_

Just like that, she felt the calm, a warm blanket of darkness that was a homecoming of sorts. In Harm's arms she denied the mantra, pushed it aside but, it was always there waiting. She stared out into the Parisian night, her body tingling to life with a renewed purpose. The shaking was gone, the headache also disappeared.

Mac walked back into the room, retrieving a small 9mm they had stashed inside a hollowed out Bible. She checked that it was loaded, knew from the weight that all of the ammo was there and then slipped it into the pocket of her coat. Marine on a mission, while Webb was drinking himself into a stupor she would find the information they were after.

'_There will never be an us.'_

Once she stepped out of the hotel, Mac immediately knew she was being followed. The man walking behind her on foot wasn't exactly conspicuous. He was thin, sickly looking and walked with a discernible limp. She had seen him on the ferry as well, remaining in the shadows and taking as many trips as she and Webb had along the Seine. At first, she figured he was just people watching, some sort of pervert that took pleasure in watching her and Webb canoodle, when he moved closer and closer to them with each trip, he'd given himself away.

When she suddenly crossed the street he followed suit, narrowly missing an oncoming vehicle in the process. He yelled out a curse in Farsi, slammed his fist onto the hood of the car and that interrupt enabled Mac to slip into an alleyway and press herself into a wall. The man had given chase, headed into the alley only to be kicked solidly in the chest, causing him to stumble against a dumpster.

He was so thin it was practically effortless to subdue him and the blow had left the man laying meekly on the ground. Before he could move, Mac struck again this time slamming the heel of her palm against his nose, shattering it. "Bitch!" He said in a heavy accent and then raised himself to attack but, any defense was cut off when Mac pressed her pistol to the side of his head.

"Who do you work for?" The question was met with silence and mumbled curse in Farsi followed by an Arabic prayer similar to one her grandmother taught her. All it served was to anger her more, the man was seriously encroaching on her little investigation. "You're gonna answer me or you're gonna hurt." She slammed the butt of the pistol into the man's head two times, grinning as his curses increased. "Who sent you?"

"You know who." He finally said, raising his hand to hold against the side of his head that was now bleeding from the blows Mac inflicted.

"Sadik?" The name came out as a choked whisper and her two year long search for the terrorist had finally netted her more than empty leads and assignments that were pointless. This was the closest she'd come in months to ending her personal war. "Where is he? What does he want?"

"He wants you, Sarah." The way he said her name made a shiver run through her spine. It was clear that she was more than just a target, as was Webb. If Sadik merely wanted them dead, they'd be six feet under by now. On the ferry only Webb was armed and the man had a clear shot if he chose to take one. This ran deeper than just revenge. "I was sent to watch over you...To keep him away from you."

Mac felt her heart sink to the pit of her stomach, the thoughts of Sadik having someone shadow her was unsettling. Working for the agency, she'd grown accustomed to the intrusion into her privacy, it was common place in her line of work but, there was something about Fahd that was unsettling. The thoughts of him watching her at her most vulnerable - of Sadik watching her with Harm forced her to swallow down the bile that rose at her throat. "Him who?"

"The man who is pretending to be your husband."

"Webb?"

"Yes. Sadik has plans for him… He has plans for your lover as well."

_Lover. Harm._

_No._ The dream of her finding him tortured and hurting played on the edges of her mind. Her gun ending his pain and sinking her into a pit of darkness Mac knew she'd never crawl out of. She tried to push that thought aside but just thinking of Harm played havoc on her emotions. She felt the darkness shift, "You're never going to hurt him, I won't let that happen."

"Soon you will see. Allah will forgive you."

"I don't need or want Allah's forgiveness." Without thinking, Mac pressed the pistol against the man's temple and pulled the trigger.

_'There will never be an us.'_

Casually, she stood and began to slowly walk down the alley, stopping only to cleanse the splattered blood off her face and hands with water dripping from a nearby drain. Her clothes were ruined and she pulled her coat off, turning it inside out to hide the stains. It wasn't long before the sounds of a police siren echoed in the distance, growing ever closer with each step she took. Mac kept a normal pace, hugging the jacket tight to her body in order to hide the splattered blood over her blouse. Slow and steady, that was what they'd taught her - slow and steady to remain inconspicuous.

She used a metal door at the back of the hotel to gain entrance and weaved her way through the maze of the kitchen until she appeared neared a stairwell that Mac ran up in order to make it back to their floor. Once inside the sanctity of the suite, Mac discarded her bloody clothing, leaving a trail that ended in the bathroom. Thankfully, Webb still hadn't returned from the bar giving her time to sink into a tub of hot water and scrub at the blood that marked her skin.

From her vantage point, she could see the bottle of Jack laying on the carpeted floor, begging to be touched and consumed, it's cap gleaming in the light from the side table lamp.

_No. No._

Downstairs, Clay sat amongst several empty stools staring at his reflection from the mirror behind the bar. The alcohol had given him a sort of euphoric feeling, a tingling in his veins that stated he was sufficiently inebriated to fall into bed and forget the day's events. Earlier he was trying to think of ways to fix things with Sarah, backpedal enough until she trusted him again before he mounted another attempt. He couldn't let her stay with Rabb, it would damage the control and soons he'd been out of his life forever, he knew it.

"Fuck Rabb." He grumbled, still not sure what Sarah saw in the boyscout. How the hell long would the man hold claim over her heart anyway? Clay made to down the rest of his single malt scotch when he felt his phone buzzing in his breast pocket.

Without looking at the tiny caller ID, he flipped it open and brought it to his ear. "I'll be up soon ...I'm just…"

But the voice on the line was not Mac but that of CIA Director Angela Laughery. The woman was known in the industry for being a ball buster and while Webb wasn't afraid, he knew he had to traipse very carefully or some of his liberties would be trimmed. _"Why are you in the field and who the hell authorized it? Certainly not me."_

"Hello Angela." Clay rolled his eyes and cursed himself for not checking the phone. The last person he wanted or needed to speak to was Laughery. She would likely send him packing relatively quickly, something Webb did not need if he were to convince Mac to return to Virginia.

_"As far as I know Clayton you're supposed to be in Virginia."_

"Widow and me, we have a history… We work well together."

There was a silence that stretched across the line and for the briefest of moment Webb thought Laughery had hung up._ "I see and why is she in Paris? Last I checked Widow was supposed to head my daughter's security detail in London not run around doing… what exactly?"_

"Searching for leads."

_"What leads?"_

He slammed down what was left of his drink and sighed. "The chameleon, we're still after him."

_"In Paris?"_ Her voice denoted that she was not convinced.

"Yes… Look Angela, you don't…"

Laughery cut him off._ "I have it under advisement that Sadik Fahd is dead. A team captured him shortly after you returned from Paraguay or did you forget about that?"_

The last few days new chatter had begun rising in the wires, his initial assessment had been called into question. Webb's want to use Sadik as a deterrent to keep Mac close had begun to morph into his reality. He wasn't faking anymore and couldn't deny the signs that the terrorist might still be alive. "I have reason to believe that he's still alive, the body our team found wasn't his."

_"Faked intel does not mean Fahd is alive...Get Widow back to London ASAP and get your ass back to Langley now!"_

"You can't talk to me that way, Angela. I have just as much pull as you do."

She scoffed at his remark and spat out in a deadly tone,_ "I am the head of the CIA and you are just the deputy director, a role you earned because of your family connections… Oh yeah, I know how mommy got you out of the field due to your addiction...I own you Clayton...If you want to retain your position, I suggest you get your ass back to your desk, you do better work there."_

"What if I'm right about Fahd? Lives are at stake."

_"Get your ass back here, Clayton, that's an order."_

Webb slammed the phone shut, staring at the device with the urge to send it shattering against the mirrored wall. "Bitch." His rouse was backfiring and for the first time in months, Clay had begun to feel a sense of fear the likes she'd never felt before. He stood up from the bar, jotted the suite number and info on the exorbitant bill and then made his way to their room.


	13. Half Woman, Half Shadow

**Chapter 13 -Half Woman, Half Shadow**

_Oh I need you, yes I need you._  
_Give me a reason to believe._  
_Wash my pain away_  
_Cause I'm Half a Woman, Half a Shadow_

She was dreaming again, her brain assembling the nightmare which took on different locations but, always ended the same. Mac tried to force herself awake but, in this dream state, her leg propelled her forward…

There was fog again seeping through the doors of the abandoned building Mac was walking through. She held her trusty sidearm at the ready, a compact 9mm that she usually carried at the small of her back.

Her body was tense, tensing even more walking down an impossibly long hallway that seemed to have no end. She stopped short when gluttoral cries of anguish and pain echoed through the building. Instinctively, Mac knew it was Harm.

She set off on a dead sprint, racing down the hall trying to locate the room where he was being held. Only the floor began to shake, breaking apart at her feet. Mac launched herself into a room, crashing to the floor and losing her weapon in the process.

It skidded away stopping at the edge of an overly expensive loafer. When she looked up, Mac found the owner of the foot, Clayton Webb standing alongside her tormentor. "Why are you here, Sarah?"

Between the men, backed into a corner she spotted Harm with his head hanging down in an unnatural angle. He wore his mess dress uniform but the white jacket was filthy, a big patch of dried blood spread in the center. "Harm!" She cried out and extended a hand to reach for him.

"I like to give her two choices." Sadik bent down, retrieving the pistol. He emptied out the magazine leaving all but one bullet chambered.

Mac knew the choices - him or her - either way either she or Harm would die. "Why are you doing this?" She asked Webb who had practically yanked her to her feet. "If you cared for me…"

"Because you'll never want me as long as Rabb is alive." He took the pistol from Sadik and shoved it into her hand. "Choose."

Harm's breath hitched when the terrorist briefly turned on a device similar to the one used in Paraguay. He held back a scream until he could hold it back no more. "Harm...I'm sorry." As always, Mac raised her arm, trained the weapon at his head and pulled the trigger...

"Harm!" Mac shot up in bed and fought the wave of nausea, swallowing down the bile that had risen. She scrubbed her hands across her face, brushing off the sweat from her current nightmare. For a moment she sat in bed, forgetting that she was no longer in London but sharing a suite with Webb in Paris.

Webb. He had been in this nightmare as well, alongside Sadik Fahd. She figured it was a product of the previous night's conversation, the knowledge that he wanted Harm out of the way so he could have her. "Bastard."

The sound of running water alerted her as to Webb's whereabouts and she was grateful not to wake with him next to her - the thought was positively revolting. Heaving a sigh, Mac untangled herself from the damp sheets and made a beeline for the closet digging her cellphone out of the room safe. After snapping the battery into place, she stepped onto the balcony impatiently waiting for the phone to come to life. Mac needed to call him to hear his voice that could calm the unease she felt. And she was uneasy from the dream, Webb and something that she couldn't quite put her finger on.

It wasn't just the nightmare but a growing feeling that something had occurred that was beyond her control. The phone pinged notifying her that voice messages had been saved - the first and only one was from Harm:

_"Hey. I know you won't be able to answer back but I….I just wanted to let you know.. I uh, damnit Mac, I miss you."_ His voice stopped for a moment and a ragged breath took its place. Harm was an excellent lawyer whose words could impassionately slay even the worst critics. With her, he was always careful, measured, like he was afraid to tell her the wrong things. _"I smell you everywhere, my sheets, on my clothes...our bed. You're everywhere and I miss the hell out of you…..I'm not sure what the hell you did to me…."_ He chuckled, _"But I never want to go back again….Come home."_

Home. Mac felt a tear slide down her cheek. He didn't profess his love for her, she noticed he'd tamed that down somewhat likely as a method to not rock the boat. But, his tone was gentle, loving even, he didn't need to say the words to her anymore to know that he loved her. "I miss you, too." She snapped the phone shut and gripped it tightly against her chest.

Home. In the last few weeks she'd come to realize that home was wherever Harm was. He was everything to her despite the horrible things she'd done, he remained and always would, she knew. Mac stared at the phone in her hand and straightened her spine, sadly letting thoughts of him go for the moment.

She couldn't think about Harm, it often led to her brain wired, fantasizing things that were better left in the recesses of her mind. She was an officer in the CIA and as such, had a job to do without her personal life getting in the way. With a sigh, she stepped back into the room, stripped the phone of its battery and placed it back in the safe next to Webb's. For the first time in forever, she couldn't wait to be home.

"What the hell did you do?" Mac spun around to find Clay stepping out of the bathroom wearing his undershirt and briefs neither of which hid much of the marks left on his body from the hand of a madman. He stared at him for a moment, finding the long discolored skin on his thighs and the others on his shoulders that disappeared into t-shirt, reminders that he'd put his life and body on the line for her. "What the hell did you do, Mac?"

Mac, not Sarah - whatever he was speaking of was definitely business. He rarely spoke her boyish nickname unless something serious had occurred and by the look in his eyes, Clay seemed troubled. "What are you talking about?"

He stopped beside the side table and produced a heavy sealed bag smeared with blood. Inside was a pistol. "Parisian police found this in an alley not far from this hotel."

"So?"

"It's yours."

Mac had the audacity to laugh although a sickening feeling told her he was right. She stared at the weapon in Clay's outstretched hand, through the plastic bag she saw blood, hair and dirt. It couldn't be hers which she hadn't touched since they arrived some days ago. She shook her head. "What are you accusing me of, Clay?"

"Mac…I don't mind cleaning up after you, it's what I do but, you can't be so reckless."

She went to the opposite nightstand and yanked open the drawer. "My sidearm is in the Bible where it's been since..." Only when she raised the book, Mac found the weight to be off, she didn't have to open it to know the gun was missing. "I ah...It's not..it's not there."

Mac sat at the edge of the bed feeling the vestiges of her headache began to manifest. The words fluttered to life in the recesses of her mind and she pushed them aside which only provided kindling for the pain._ 'There will never…'_

She spotted the pile of clothes at the foot of the bed, hers, the ones she'd worn last night. Mac grabbed the silk beige blouse, raising it up to see the telltale signs of dried blood and something else. "What… oh God." The garment dropped out of her hand as Mac rushed to the bathroom kneeling in front of the toilet to vomit.

The pounding of her head had increased exponentially and then the visions began, like snap shots of what had occurred - a man following, the strike on his head with the butt of her pistol, gun shot, the bottle of Jack. She was grateful that Clay pressed a cool washcloth to the back of her neck and helped her stand. He waited patiently as she rinsed her mouth with mouth wash and splashed some water on her face. "What happened last night? I get back from the bar, find you passed out in bed. Bloody clothes everywhere and a bottle of whiskey spilled on the ground."

"I didn't drink?" She turned to face him, sighing when he shook his head.

"No. At least, I don't think so." Clay brushed the hair off of Mac's face, tucking some of the strands behind her ear. He was being deceptively gentle. "Sarah, who was he?"

"He was sent by Sadik, tasked to follow us… I saw him last night on the ferry, thought he was just some creep getting off on you and me." She should have followed her instincts then but, was too busy thinking of other things, specifically, another man. "I shot him, for no reason at all… I didn't even think about the intel we could collect."

"I need to tell you something that you're not gonna like." Clay took a breath and shakily let it out, he was willing to tell her the truth now, his lie that had come to fruition. He took her hand in his, squeezing gently. "A few months after Paraguay, we caught Sadik. He was killed trying to flee. At least, that's what I was told. Pictures matched, all the records we had on file, it all matched. He was dead."

Mac felt the ire begin to raise in her, an anger that was so uncontrollable. "What? _No_...you said…"

"He was dead...and now there's chatter on the wire that he may still be alive." He sighed, "I led you on to keep you close when I saw things getting too serious with you and Rabb in Canada."

Roughly, she pulled her hand out of his grasp. "I was going leave the Brotherhood then, leave and never turn back." Mac recalled her and Harm's wounds being tended to, the loving way he held her gaze that made every click into place. She was determined to leave the agency then and let Harm heal her until Webb interfered with lies of Sadik. "You told me he was alive."

"I lied to you then… turns out my lie came true." He expected her to slap him although Webb didn't think Mac would punch him. "God dammit, Mac." She'd broken his nose and he cowered away once she wound her fist up again. "Stop! I'm sorry, okay!"

Mac struck him again, this time slamming her fist into his gut. "You stupid son of a bitch, Sadik will come after me he wants me for some reason."

"You don't know that." Webb said in a nasaly voice as he held his bleeding nose.

"I do. And you've had me playing your lackey, chasing after false information!"

"I kept you safe, Sarah."

"Safe?" She laughed at the use of the word, Mac was anything but safe. "So safe I had to crawl into a bottle of alcohol to survive?!"

"That was your doing not mine. If you weren't so ridiculously infatuated with Harm you would have been fine. If you went back to Langley and followed up with your treatment, I wouldn't have an Interpol issue on my hands with that guy you killed! The control is off the rails, you can't perform anymore."

"Treatment? Or brainwashing? Let's call it what it is... programming." Mac spat out shaking her head at the thought of what they'd done to her - what she allowed. "I'm not going back to that."

Webb sighed as if her words hurt him. "You may not have a choice. It will fix you, make you better."

It would fortify their control, shut her emotions out, make her hate him, hurt him. She loved Harm and wouldn't put him through more pain. "No. I'm not going back to that ...I'm not leaving _him_ again."

"You may not have a choice." He went to the bathroom and returned with a damp rag now stained in blood. "Get dressed, we have to get out of here before the cops wonder why your pistol isn't in lockup."

* * *

Wearily, Mac stepped into Harm's apartment - their apartment, as he reminded her. They were a couple now, had been since he'd helped her recover. Truth be told, they had always been a couple, even with JAG assignments and investigations, they usually came as a set - the Colonel and the Commander. She smiled fondly as she thought about the past, the closeness they shared, the camaraderie.

She dropped her small suitcase by the door and took a deep breath. There was a faint scent of Harm's cologne and aftershave, a smell so uniquely him that lingered in the air. Mac followed the aroma finding the source stretched out on the sofa fast asleep. on There was an open folder draped on his chest and some of the pages had fallen out and drifted to the ground.

Mac smiled. She liked watching him sleep, the rise and fall of his chest, the soft breath and quiet sounds he made. Harm didn't snore, a fact she was grateful for, but he sometimes talked in his sleep especially when stressed. She removed the folder from his chest, stuffed the pages inside and tossed it to the coffee table where other files were spread across.

Although she didn't want to wake him, Mac needed to be close to him physically and feel the warmth of his arms holding her tightly. Carefully, she crawled onto him, laying her body down over his own. She sighed contentedly as her head rested against his chest. It wasn't too long before she felt his arms wrap around her, pulling her even closer into his body.

"Please tell me I'm not dreaming this." He opened one of his eyes and then the other grinning as her mouth met his in a soft kiss. "Hey beautiful."

"Hey yourself, sailor." They kissed again, slowly and much sensually than they had in forever. It held a promise of something more until she tore her lips from his. "Please tell me you have plenty of time on the books." Her tone was almost desperate.

"I should, yeah.. Why?"

Mac's head came back to his chest and she heard the steady rhythm of his heart, the sound had the most soothing effect on her. "Let's get out of here. You and me...I need to get out of here... with you."

"What happened?" He was almost afraid to ask, Mac was mostly closed off about work and the times he tried to delve into her assignments had caused an argument or two.

"I don't know."

Harm sighed, he knew the answer and it was a word he was sick of. "Lemme guess, _classified_."

"It is but...I...I killed a man. A lot of it is hazy, I don't even remember leaving the hotel but, I remember that." She shook involuntarily at the thoughts of Sadik having them followed. There was no way to surely know if and when he would strike. "I barely remember when you and me...when we, _you know, _slept together, back in Canada...It's bits and pieces like a dream. I feel my mind is erasing things."

His fingers ran up and down her spine, slow and soothing and he felt her body relax against him in somewhat of a surrender. Harm had learned to stop pushing her and let her ease into serious conversation, it never got them anywhere to press her buttons. "When did it start?"

She bit her lower lip almost ashamed to admit that it was him that had done that to her. _'You broke me.' _Some memories of their time together on the houseboat were much more prevalent than others._ 'We were a little desperate for each other.'_ Mac closed her eyes tightly. "Toronto."

"So, it's my fault." It wasn't a question, she had stated before that being with him did things to her - good things, in his opinion if it meant breaking the agency's hold on her. "What do you need me to do?"

"Webb wants me to go to Langley, see the doc that handles my case. My intuition is telling me to stay far away."

"It rarely fails you."

He was right, it had gotten both of them out of some hairy situations. "Something inside wants me to go but, I'm...scared to." She sighed heavily and raised up to look into his eyes. "I don't want to hurt you again...Whatever they do to me...it makes me... God, I hate saying this... _hate_ you."

Absentmindedly, her fingers skimmed over the spot where he'd been shot a year prior. Though no longer painful, it made him flinch. "Hate's a strong word."

Although she'd explained this to him before he saw the pain in her eyes, the confusing emotions. "I wanted to hate you too for a time." Like when she broke his heart in Paraguay or the night she left after they made love. It hurt like hell and he would have preferred hating her over living with the pain of not having Mac. The fates felt it prudent to have them meet again when he had finally managed to get on with his life.

"I don't trust Webb. He used me to find you and that phone book." Her body tightened again, he could feel it happen beneath his palms, the tension and it was a tell she felt the same. "Did he do something to you?" The concept of that bastard touching her or worse made his own body tense with murderous intent. Deputy Director or not, there wasn't a rock he could hide under where Harm would find and kill him, consequences be damned. "I'll fucking kill him."

Although Mac wasn't a fan of neanderthal theatrics, she liked this side of him - her protector. Harm had always been this way with those he cared for. With her, it was much more fierce, she understood it for what it was now - love. "He kissed me, we were pretending to be husband and wife. And then he he wanted me…That I needed him not you."

She couldn't keep the amused tone out of her voice which made his tension ease. "Oh yeah?" The very notion of Webb being better for Mac than him made Harm laugh. He may not be the best man in the World but, he was surely better than Clayton Webb.

"Harm." Her voice had turned serious again. "I think he wants to hurt you...No, I'm certain he does."

His amused grin spread on his lips and Harm could barely contain a chuckle. "I'd destroy him if he tried."

"I'm being serious… Hand to hand, no doubt. But, he has methods, people that would do his bidding." In reference to Harm she was sure Clay would do the deed himself. "Please be careful...I'm not always around to watch your six."

"I will, Mac."

"Promise me...I don't want to lose you."

"I promise." Harm turned them over so that her back was against the cushions. His lips descended on hers, kissing Mac slowly and his tongue sought permission which was granted. Her hands slid under his shirt, skimming over the hard ripples of muscles that defined Harm's abdomen.

God, how she wanted him, all of him and when Harm's own hand barely moved along the swell of her breast, she was almost unglued. Mac had made him wait and this wonderful man had been so patient, never taking more than she would give. But, they hadn't kissed like this with such passion since the last time, the night she left him.

It made an ache pass over her heart. What had she done to him? It forced her to break away and it was all Harm could do but, stare at her in confusion. "I'm sorry."

He wasn't, not one bit. It was farther than they'd gotten in so long and held a promise that soon he could love her again, completely. "No rush." He pressed one chaste kiss on her lips and smiled. "Sooo, where do you want to run off to?"

Mac expected him to be upset, instead she found a kind of awed expression in his eyes. It served to reaffirm how wonderful he was. "Surprise me."


	14. Making Love To You

So, FINALLY, we get to a love scene and fixing Mac quite a bit… she may even tell him the "L" word which, if you've paid attention, she hasn't told him not even in the first story. This is a much darker peice that my other things but, I do like this story.

Sorry about the back and forth with Sadik. I had ONE idea that gravitated to another and so… is he alive or dead? The muse will let me know shortly… The ending for this story will be a shocking one. It's already written so, back tracking to get the rest done and keep it under 20 chapters with MAYBE a heavenly prologue.

For those saying Harm is weak, he isn't. He's just grown up, this isn't his story (Final Destination was), this is Mac's. He is still strong, still very much a man but, one that realizes he doesn't want to lose her and will do anything not to. He's also a little freaked by her or rather how she is able to shut off and just do whatever the CIA asks.

So… here's a little lovin' for our fav couple.

**Chapter 14 - Making Love To You**

_"Making love to you__I couldn't love you__anymore than I do__God knows__it's all I ever wanted to do"_

"Making Love To You" by Roxette

Mac took a deep breath, taking in the smell of fresh grass and the mist which clung to the Scottish valley as Harm eased their rental car to its final destination. His hand was resting on the gearshift and she threaded her fingers through his, her thumb casually brushing over the top of his hands. It gave him the oddest sensation of warmth like an intimate touch of a lover although it was uniquely chaste.

"_Scotland?"_ She raised her brow at his concept of a surprise vacation once the tickets had been purchased and he handed her a pamphlet with all of the typical touristy suggestions. Honestly, she expected he'd want her in as little as possible, like a bikini in Jamaica or some place equally tropic. Then she remembered her scars, the ones that stretched across her back limiting the amount of skin she was willing to show without prying eyes and uncomfortable questions. They had lightened some but, not enough, from time to time she would notice Harm looking at the marks with an expression she couldn't disern. It was something of a criss cross of anger, pain, remorse and blame and she hated it.

Perhaps cooler weather was a better choice and Harm seemed so excited as he leafed through a few pages stopping at the picture of a small cottage nestled in a Scottish valley with the mountains in the distance. It looked positively secluded and… romantic.

_"No cellphone, internet connection or television for miles… Think you can put up with just me for a week?"_ Harm's tone wasn't meant to be seductive but, she caught that type of bedroom timbre that sent her insides quivering. This waiting must have played havoc on him because, as of late, intimacy with Harm was the only thing on her mind.

She felt her body awaken even just sleeping next to him or spotting his naked chest when he came out of the shower. HIs aftershave, cologne, even the smell of his sweat after a run made her want to have her way with him. It was exciting to feel for him again and better yet, to be clean when doing so. To Mac, it was like anticipating her first time with a new lover.

Mac glanced his way, finding a soft smile on his lips, a relaxed expression of happiness. He squeezed their joined hands gently and then turned his over in order to shift into a smaller gear once they arrived at their destination.

A long, grassy driveway ended at the edge of a small cottage facing a mountainous region. The structure itself was made of wood, like something of a small log cabin with moss covered roofing and smoke wafting out of a stone chimney. Dotting the countryside were other structures like it, all a relatively far away enough to offer the couple seclusion.

Harm curiously watched Mac as she hopped out of the vehicle and walked out to the front of the cabin. She stretched her arms out akimbo and threw her head back taking a deep breath of the clean mountain air. The stress felt like it came off her shoulders dramatically, the headache that always lingered became that much more subdued.

The inside of the cottage was rustic but, with a modern kitchen and living room right at the entrance. Towards the back was one door that led to the to a small room whose bed took up most of the space. "Well? How'd I do?"

Mac turned around to find Harm staring at her almost apprehensively still holding both their suitcases as if waiting for her to object. But, she didn't say a word, her only answer being that of a hard kiss that had him dropping the suitcases and wrapping his arms around her waist. "Oh, that good huh?"

"I'm going to shower." She said, the moment they pulled apart.

"Let me use the head first… pretty sure once you see the tub I'll lose you for the rest of the day." He'd actually taken the time to find a cottage that had a tub large enough to fit the two of them should there trip turn amorous. After using the facilities, Mac had disappeared inside

"Want to head into town? We can sightsee a bit." He suggested from a spot on the sofa once the water was shut off and he heard her fiddling with her bag in the bedroom.

"Not today."

"What do you want to eat? I can make a stew." Harm offered as the cottage had been fully stocked by request.

"I'm not hungry."

"Mac we need to eat."

"Later…"

Harm could hear the irritation in her voice and opted to drop any more culinary suggestions. Instead he waited patiently for her return only to have his mind drift into more sexier thoughts of Mac. Neither of them had tried to push the relationship to a more intimate one. Mac had asked for time and he was determined to give it to her. Cold showers and some "alone time" would be his friend.

Kissing her was torturous, especially when her tongue inadvertently stroked his. It didn't have to be deep or passionate kiss, just feeling her lips moving with his own would tighten the lower half of his anatomy. If he thought resisting her before had been Hell, having intimate knowledge of her body was driving him insane.

Harm wanted to lose himself in her warm, moist depths, to hear his name on her lips spoken under the throes of passion. He wanted to love her completely, make her his in the most primal of ways. With a groan, he stared down at the problem tenting in his pants. "Damn." Christ, he was acting like a lovestruck teenager infatuated with the prettiest girl in school.

"Harm." Mac called to him in a voice that sounded a little too seductive, likely a product of his oversexed imagination. "I'm getting a little cold, _Captain_. Wanna warm me up?" She purred his rank and couldn't stop the satisfied grin when Harm jumped off the sofa and whirled to face her.

She was leaning against the doorframe wearing a lacey, wine red babydoll that dropped well above mid-thigh. A deep V neck came down low between her breasts offering him a clear view of each curve and swell. When Mac walked towards him, the material moved over her skin, hiking up to expose the matching lace g-string which rose high on her hip.

Harm shook his head, sure that this was the makings of another erotic dream. And then she touched him with one finger that slid down the front of his shirt. "Breathe, sailor."

"Pretty sure I forgot how to." He held his breath as Mac began unbuttoning his shirt only to find her hands were shaking. It betrayed the look in her eyes of strength and seduction to show the fear that lingered around the edges. His hands came up, sliding up her arms and holding Mac's hands to his chest when one of the buttons refused to release. "You're shaking...If you don't want to, I promised to wait."

"I do. I just...I want to remember this time." She blushed at the admission and couldn't help the words that preceded, "You won't hurt me."

"I'll never hurt you." He helped her remove the buttons from their holes, his hands guiding hers and then falling away, allowing Mac to tug the ends out of his jeans. "You lead, I'll follow." Harm stood rooted in place, afraid to move when her hands roamed over his bare chest. The peppering of coarse hair tickled her palm when she moved them up and dragged the shirt off of his shoulders.

Mac stopped touching him then and her gaze fixed on the puckered skin on his left flank, the remnants of her assignment in Toronto that had nearly killed him. She had almost done the deed herself, suturing his wound so recklessly that it took Harm days to recover. She could have lost him forever. "I'm sorry." Her fingers moved over the flaw in his skin.

"I'm not. I found you...You're alive, we both are." Harm pulled her hand away and tried to pull her close but Mac took a step back. She wrapped her fingers on the hem of the babydoll, intending to pull it off when Harm stopped her. "No, leave it on..."

His words stilled her hands and she looked at him curiously. "Really?"

"Oh yes. I wanna be the one taking that off you."

She gave him a coy look and her characteristic eyebrow rose seductively. "I lead, you follow." Mac took one of his hands and led him into the bedroom.

* * *

Mac pushed him onto the bed after leaving Harm completely naked, straddling his hips when he scooted to the middle. She still wore the lingerie, its hem brushing his thighs when she settled over him. Harm's growing erection pressed against her bottom and Mac deliberately moved her hips in order to tease him.

It forced a groan out of Harm, who was trying to control his reaction to her and failing miserably. Since she stepped out of the room clad in lingerie, he wanted to be inside her, buried to the hilt, hearing her cries of passion as she came. Straddled atop of him, Mac looked like a wanton Goddess, the wine colored slip mingling with her skin tone so wonderfully. "You're so beautiful."

His rough hands came to her thighs running up and down in a slow motion, slipping slightly under the babydoll. Part of him was terrified to move too soon, take more than she was willing to give, so he let her make the first move and watched as Mac took one of his hands and brought it to her lips.

The tip of her tongue traced the length of his index finger, her teeth lightly nibbled the tip and then she took it in her mouth, keeping eye contact when she sucked lightly. Finger by finger, she slowly took each one into her mouth noting how Harm's eyes began to darken with each digit that she sucked.

Beneath her, Mac could feel him shift, the strain of his erection pressing harder and harder especially as she moaned. She returned to his index finger, slowly moving it in and out of her mouth. The visual act of her lips moving, sucking was making him almost desperate. "God, Mac…" The woman was going to make him come just by sucking his fingers.

Each nibble and swirl of her tongue was like her sweet lips were wrapped around his cock as Mac pleasured him. "Touch me." She moistened his index finger and then guided his hand down her body, stopping only when it pressed against her sex. She was wet, enough so that it soaked past the wispy material that covered her and Harm felt it on his fingers.

He did as she commanded, guiding his finger over the wet material of her G-string, hearing Mac whimper as he stroked her rhythmicly over the fabric. He tugged it aside with his opposite hand giving him better access to slide one long finger along her wet folds and then into her. "You're so wet."

"Mmm…Have been since we drove here." When she kept replaying the things she wanted to do with him, the love they would make now that most of the mental control was gone.

She would enjoy him and remember every moment not as an act of desperation from a man who was trying to free her but that of a couple in love. "I almost took your hand and slipped it between my thighs then. I wanted to feel your hands over me, stroking….Oooh.." She gasped as he pushed another finger into her and began to move them in and out.

She rode his fingers, grinding into his hand and then Harm's thumb pressed against her clit making Mac buckle from the new sensation. The man was deadly with his fingers making her come so quickly when she wanted to draw it out.

Mac wanted more of him, needed to feel his delicious length filling her. She came up to her knees and reached between them so when Harm's fingers came away she guided him into her. As she impaled herself on his cock, she saw the beads of sweat that were forming on his body, an obvious sign of the strain from keeping control. He was beautiful, perfect and hers.

"Mac…" Harm tried to speak until she moved and the air rushed out of his lungs. Her hips undulated slowly at first but, the pace increased when Mac began to ride him. His hands grazed over her thighs, sliding under the lingerie until he gripped her hips, helping her move.

He didn't thrust into her, didn't move, only watched as she brought herself to pleasure with him. Harm didn't know why but, it was something she needed so he steadied his breathing, stopping himself from coming when her muscles clenched and spasmed around him.

Never had he seen her look as beautiful as she did that very moment. Head thrown back, her body in a full blush and covered with perspiration. She was still moving over him, rocking gently back and forth as her body stopped quivering from her orgasm.

It was then that Mac's eyes found his and the sensation of his cock still inside of her and still hard made her wonder if she'd done something wrong. "You didn't come?"

Harm shook his head. "No...Watching you though...that was incredible." His hands began stroking her thighs again. "I held back..I think...I think you needed that from me. Needed to know I'd never force you."

His intuition had been spot on and something not even Mac knew she needed. It made a blush creep into her cheeks. "Yeah...I did need that."

"I'm still inside you." He thrusted up to make a point forcing a gasp when he sat up and angled Mac so her legs wrapped around his waist. "You don't know how hard it was for me not to flip you onto your back and take you.. You drive me crazy…I want to see you." He grabbed the edges of the babydoll and began to pull it off of her.

"I want to touch you." His hands moved from her back to her flank, fingers teasing the swell of her breasts. Harm's open palms ran over each nipple, barely there until he took the full weight of her bursars in his hands. "I want to taste you." And theb his head sipped down to her chest, his mouth seaking one nipple which he began to suck on.

They were still joined and Mac had begun to move against him, the velverly warmth of her depths squeezing urging him to move. Harm could no longer deny the pleasure he would find in her. "I need you…" He whispered, between kisses to her throat and mouth. "I love you, Sarah."

And there were those words again, the affirmation Mac did not want to deny any longer. He loved her, completely and it was time to let go of what little control remained…

'There will...always...be an us.'

The headache came, as it always did with a ferocity that forced her to bury her head in the crook of his neck. She held onto him as the pain threatened to slit her head in two. Mac cried, whimpering when the pain held her mind on a thin thread of consciousness.

Instinctively, Harm knew this was part of her catharsis so he didn't push or question, simply held her while she cried. He pulled out if her, content that she seemed to trust her body to him and allow the comfort he gave.

An intent to shift Mac off of his lap and lay her in bed was halted as her head came up to look at him. Her eyes red from crying, he wiped the tears that fell down her cheeks. "Mac…" His words were silenced by a kiss that was soft, tentative and tasted of her tears.

And then she began to move, her hand carefully stroking him until his cock harden again. "I want you too." She whispered into his ear and came up over him until Harm pressed the tip of him past her wet folds. One of Mac's arms draped over his shoulder, the other extended out to the side, hand on the mattress to brace herself as she countered his movements.

"Oh Harm…" Mac rocked harder against him and felt his cock begin to throb inside her. His arms drew her to him, pressing her chest against his, holding Mac tightly as he spent himself inside her. He was exhausted both from their love making and the control of holding back as she rode him.

Mac cradled his body against hers, her hands running soothing circles down his back. Her body hummed and although they were still joined, she began to feel the sadness as he pulled out. God, she never wanted this to end.

Harm's arms moved up and tightened around her. His head was still buried in the crook of her neck but she felt his lips moving, kissing the sensitive skin that made her moan involuntarily. Butterflies gave flight in her tummy reminding her of the first time she realized she loved him. It had been so long, so many years ago in the Appalachain mountains where he kept her safe, alive. Her feelings for Harm, strong and seemingly misplaced were an infatuation until then. After that, it only grew until she fell deeply in love with him.

She felt it now, the warmth that spread through her and the tight squeeze of her heart. Two years of trying to hate him had come to this and Mac could no longer deny it - they were made to be together - it was a cosmic design no one could break.

"I love you. Harm." Mac whispered, fearing what would happen if she confessed her deepest secret. "Oh, Harm...I love you so so much." Tears burned her eyes again as the realization of the words began to make sense. He was the only man she ever really loved. "I love you. Only you."

Harm's body shook when she spoke the affirmation he'd been seeking for so long. He was sure she would never say the words, that the CIA had somehow sucked that emotion right out of her. He was willing to accept a broken version of Mac because having part of her was better than nothing at all.

He would work on her moods, make her believe his love of her was pure and intentional; that he couldn't live without her. And now… "Say that again." His head was still buried in her neck out of fear that he'd look in her eyes and find that darkness living within.

"Please, say that again."

Mac moved, forcing his head up so that his eyes would lock onto hers. "I love you, Harm" She kissed his lips, punctuating each word as she went. "I. Love. You."

"You mean that."

"Yeah, Flyboy, I do." She kissed the tip of his nose and each of his cheeks and then brought her hands up to frame his face. "I love you." And then she kissed him again deep and passionately, feeling a weight come off of her as his tongue swept into her mouth.

Mac wasn't sure how he flipped them over but somehow she was laying on her back and Harm was hovering over her. "Tell me what you want." He queried in a huksy voice altough one hand was already making its way slowly down her body, stopping between the juncture of her thighs. "Tell me."

"Touch me...taste me…"

Harm's hand cupped her mound, squeezing gently for her to feel the ache of her desire for him. He scooted down and took one of her feet in his hands raising it so that he could kiss her ankle. His lips moved up her leg slowly, inching his way up to her thigh.

"Harm." She was squirming under his touch, specifically the rough facial hair that had grown past a five o clock shadow. It was a look she was only mildly accustomed with, Harm had a habit of ditching the razor when he was on vacation. She liked the look as it added a flare of rugged manliness to his sexy appearance.

She just never thought about how erotic it would feel to have the coarse hairs rub over her thigh as he kissed her there. "Oh…Don't stop that." It tickled her skin and she eagerly anticipated the sensation when he began to kiss the ankle of her other leg.

Mac nearly squeezed her legs shut when his head came down between her thighs. He forced her legs apart to deliberately run his tongue slowly over her sex. The taste of his essence mixed with hers was so intoxicating. He lapped at her, probed Mac's entrance with one finger and then another while his mouth closed around the hooded bundle of nerves.

He brought her to the brink with his fingers and his mouth, stroking and sucking only to stop before she could come.

Mac groaned in protest until he moved up over her. His cock teased her, barely pushing more than the tip inside as he held her legs still. "Harm...please…" She wriggled her six up, trying to push him deeper only to groan from his frustratingly slow and shallow thrusts. "Mmmmmm. Please…"

"Please what?" He was enjoying teasing her, the ease of making love to Mac without concerns of the outside world. Even when he finally pushed his hips forward, sheathing himself fully in her depths, he still kept the rhythm slow, moving harder as she guided him to do so. "Oh God, Mac!" He cried her name as his body shook from the climax much more explosively than there last time.

"I'm sorry." Harm said once he pulled out of her and rolled onto his back gripped by the vestiges of sleep. "You...wore me out." He mumbled sleepily but still managed to turn to his side and drape an arm across Mac's middle.

"You did a number on me too." Mac admitted as she tugged at the corner of a blanket at the edge of the bed and pulled it over the. She snuggled into his embrace falling asleep in his arms.


	15. Chemical

**Chapter 15 - Chemical**

**"**_Open up my eyes and feel your _hearbeat

_As we lay with your body pressed against mine_

_And I know, and I know this very moment_

_This will be, this will be till the end of time_

_I want you to know_

_This love is more than chemical"__"_

Chemical" by Kerli

When her eyes sleepily opened and the nerve endings came alive all Mac could feel was an incredible warmth. The sensation was wanted, welcomed and needed, a stark difference to what she felt when others had shared her bed.

She generally wasn't the type to enjoy sleeping in a man's arms, it was just another of those relationship clichés that became stifling once the "getting to know you" period had waned. With Harm, it was inherently different, this thing between them making everything feel new and alive.

And she loved him, really loved him and he was finally hers. One of her hands pressed against his chest with her fingertips resting over his heart. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the steady drum of his heartbeat and the warmth of his body as she lay over him.

Mac's skin was still tingling from where his hands had roamed over her body. There was a delicious ache between her thighs and she felt wonderful, so wonderful. It amazed her how attuned they were as lovers, Harm knew exactly where to touch, how to kiss and please. He wove a kind of magic over her skin with his body making her soar just like one of his beloved airplanes. The last few hours were a more intense an exquisite form of lovemaking that was a conversation of sorts between two souls.

He'd been above her body between her parted thighs moving achingly slow. His hands were threaded through hers, pinning her into the mattress beneath, moving deeper with each languorous stroke. Reverently, he loved her, finally letting go of Mac's hands so that she could run them over his body. Despite the measured movements, Mac struggled to catch her breath as her body was consumed by a sort of rapture she hadn't felt before.

The chemistry between them had always been undeniably evident even from the start. And yet, there was just no adequate words to describe this sweet surrender.

She saw him stir and the arm that was wrapped around her tightened. He smiled before opening his eyes and fixing his gaze on hers. Harm had the loveliest eyes when he woke up, an almost pale blue. "How long have you been awake?" He asked, his voice rough from sleep.

"You don't want to know." She just didn't want to move from his embrace, it felt too damned good, too right. After the last few years living a half life, she needed him. "I've been enjoying watching you sleep."

"What's so enjoyable about that?"

Mac shrugged. "Everything? Watching you breathe, the little faces you make. Sometimes you seem so relaxed, other times, happy. At times you look like a little boy."

He snorted at her comment. "A boy? Yea right."

"Innocent, I mean."

"Hmmm, there was nothing innocent about what we did." His voice had dropped to that sexy drawl that captivated her in the past when their relationship was all a form of verbal foreplay.

"Not that I heard you complaining."

Harm grinned. "Hey, a gorgeous woman seduces me, I ain't gonna say no." But, he did hesitate, making sure this was something she actually wanted from him. And it had been sweet, achingly so. The million and one reasons as to why they hadn't gotten together haunted him although there was no way to undo the past. God, how he wished he could in order to ease her pain and some of his. "This chemistry between us is…" He trailed off, unable to find the words to describe it without sounding so cheesy.

"Unusual?" She offered, laughing when he jolted up, affronted by the term she used. "What? Tell me you've felt this before? It's all consuming and has been since we met….It scares me."

It scared her? He breathed a sigh of relief at her words and tightened his hold on her. "Yeah, me too. I'm terrified you'll leave again… I ah...uh… Shit, why can't I ever say things to you without sounding like an idiot?"

Mac raised her head to look into his eyes and the myriad of emotions within him. "Just tell me." She felt his pulse quicken beneath the palm that was pressed against his chest.

"If I lose you…If you leave again...I..Christ, Mac you killed me."

"I'm not leaving." Although there would likely be some sort of hell to pay when they returned. Mac hadn't told Clay she was leaving on her little getaway with Harm. Instinctively she knew Webb would complicate things, force an assignment on her that she wouldn't walk away from. She had traveled under an alias and asked Harm not to question why. Only her partner at the Laughery's home knew that Mac was going, which was fine, they often covered for each other. "I'm. Not. Leaving." She said, punctuating each word with a kiss on his chest.

One of her headaches passed through the recesses of her mind, quick and painful. She caught her breath and fought the urge to push out of his arms and walk away. Something inside her wanted that, the clean break that she sought after two years prior.

'There will never be an us' Her mantra was still there, deep inside but, her want of him, the feelings she still had for Harm were stronger this time.

'_There will always be an us.'_

Rather than push away the feelings, she gave in, her lips brushing against his softly, her arms wrapping around him. Mac felt a weight lift, a peace that she hadn't felt before in her life shrouded her. How Mac had fallen so completely over him had always been a source of amusement and sadness - especially when things just never seemed to click. A clean break had been wanted and needed to keep her sanity, to keep him safe. And now, she wondered how the hell she ever lived without him.

Harm ran a hand up and down her back over the sheet that covered them. "Harm? Slip that hand back under the sheet." He did as asked and then danced his fingers over her bare back down to her six. "Mmm, better. I like feeling your rough hands on my skin."

"Rough?" He stopped his hand from moving and seemed concerned. "Do I need to do something about it?"

Mac grinned. "No...I love how your hands feel."

"I love touching you." He brought his hand down over her hip bone with a featherlight touch which Harm discovered could make her giggle. "You're cold aren't you?"

She was shivering, as the day turned into night the cabin had cooled imperceptibly. Then again, they'd been too busy to notice. "A little, yeah."

Harm tugged the heavy blankets over them. "I'll keep you warm." His voice was wickedly seductive.

Mac giggled as one of his hands traveled the length of her spine stopping only to cup her six. "Ah, Your idea of keeping me warm requires removing the covers."

"I can go relight the fire." He cast a glance at the dying embers of the fireplace. When he made to move, Mac threw a leg over him, holding him in place.

"No, no, no… I don't wanna move from your arms." She snuggled into him. "Next getaway, I say we find some tropical island...Lazy days napping on a hammock."

"Making love on the beach?"

She rolled her eyes. _Men_. "One track mind, flyboy."

"You're gorgeous, can you blame me?"

_Gorgeous. Beautiful._ Two words he'd repeated since she'd moved in with him. They weren't said as a way to seduce but, as a heartfelt endearment. "You say that a lot."

"And I'll tell you every day until I die." He said solemnly and felt Mac stiffen in his arms. She didn't giggle anymore as his fingers danced over her hip again. "What's wrong?" Harm was almost afraid to ask knowing they were still on some shaky ground.

Mac's eyes closed tightly. Her heart was racing, the headache that tried to return battled with her sanity. All she ever wanted was in his arms and there she was. "When you let go…"

"It's all or nothing, Mac."

"You weren't ready back then and I tried to push you...And then I ran away... I'm sorry."

"Mac, forget about that past… we're together now." And that's all that mattered to him especially when it seemed they'd never get this far.

There was a simplicity in his words that Mac gave into. "I love you, Harm…"

"Never gonna get tired of hearing you say that." He grinned and lowered his head to kiss her.

* * *

A blond haired man dressed in a blue suit stood in the hallway in front of the door to Harm's flat. He knocked and waited knowing there would be no answer. No matter, he'd become adept at picking locks and several other illegal activities.

He pushed inside, closed the door and leaned against it, taking a moment to feel the vibrations of the room. There was a subtle smell of a man's cologne and aftershave but, the softer scent of a woman lingered as well. "Sarah." They weren't together long and at the time she mostly smelled of sweat, blood and filth yet, that specific perfume clinged to her skin.

Carefully he walked farther into the flat, over to the living room where he sat on the sofa and started towards the fireplace and the mantle which displayed a few pictures. "Hmmm." He stood and studied each framed photo beginning with one of a man with a mustache standing on a ladder that led to a plane's cockpit. He was pointing at the controls while a small boy looked at the man with such love in his eyes.

Next was a picture of a stocky man and his bride, Sarah was wearing a red dress and a tall, dark haired man wore dress whites. That same man appeared in all of the images with various other persons finally ending with a picture of him and Sarah wearing camo.

In fact, the one person the handsome, tall man appeared with the most was Sarah. He knew exactly who the Captain was although the one piece which never fit slid into place when the man walked into the bedroom. All his research found was that the pair were partners at JAG for seven long years until Sarah joined the CIA.

The bed was unmade and when he grabbed a sheet and brought it to his nose, he knew. "Harmon Rabb is your _lover_." He spat the words out, deeply disgusted and distuebed that she would give herself like a whore.

But then, that was exactly what the CIA had taught her, he knew. It was something he would break out of her along with the clothing he found in the closet. Her lover's clothing was to the left, neatly hanging uniforms, suits and a leather bomber jacket.

Cringing, he pulled out a few of her clothing, settling the pieces on the beds for better inspection. Suits, skirts, dresses - either too whorish or too manly - in his opinion. "Soon...Sarah… Soon." He would free her when the time was right.


	16. Scars Reprised

**Chapter 16 - Scars Reprised**  
"_Know they're cutting you deep_

_Feel the scars in your sleep_

_What didn't kill us made us stronger_

_Stories left on our skin_

_Wear them with everything_

_What didn't kill us made us stronger"_

"Scars" by Tove Lo

"There. Should keep us warm for the night." Harm said with a grin, satisfied as the fire roared to life in the small fireplace at the corner of the bedroom.

He turned to see Mac beaming at him, if not rolling her eyes at his obvious pride at starting a fire. It was a guy thing, she knew, a stroke of his ego. "Thank you but, I was hoping _you_ would keep me warm for the night, sailor."

"First thing's first." She was seated at the edge of the bed wrapped in only a bed sheet that served to cover half of her body. Mac's back was exposed, the scars that he couldn't stop thinking about stretched across. "Lay down on your stomach." He commanded, pleased when she complied without question, a sign that she trusted him implicitly. When she did, Harm pulled back the sheet stopping so that it covered her six and legs.

Mac turned her head to face him, watching the concentration in his eyes as Harm scanned her back making her feel a little self conscious as he looked at her scars. "They don't hurt." He had touched them before, tracing them with his fingers as if trying to both memorise and erase them. This time, it wasn't his fingers that moved over her marred skin; it was his lips and her breath caught as he dragged them over the length of one scar and then another. "_Harm_."

"Let me, please." He nearly begged, his body moving over hers so that his lips could brush against the scar on her shoulder. Harm felt the ridges against his lips and he ran them over the scar only to press a kiss against it. "I wish this hadn't happened to you." Mac's skin was otherwise flawless, beautiful, unique. An olive colour that came alive when he touched her. His lips brought a wave of goosebumps over her flesh and he continued to explore each line of every scar with patient detail. Then, his hands began to move over her as well, following each line that his lips previously moved over, coming to stop at her hip which was covered by the bed sheet.

"Why are you so fixated with the scars?" She wondered out loud, sighing when his hand brushed over her hips and dipped down stroking just above her curls.

"I wish I could take them away... All of them." Especially the emotional ones, the baggage that she carried from the time she was a child through the last few years as a CIA officer. Especially, he wanted to take away the scars he'd inflicted when he'd stupidly tried to ignore his feelings for her. "I want to go back to the beginning, start over with you, make things right."

God, she wanted that too, from the moment they met that the White House rose garden to the time she stepped out of his apartment en route to Paraguay. There were so many memories to pick apart but, the bad ones always bubbled to the surface, each one their own emotional scar.

"Is it because I look like her?" Mac asked suddenly, knowing she didn't have to put a name to the woman she was speaking about. It was the one insecure thought that always doubted how deeply any of his feelings ran for her. Harm loved her, she knew that but, how much was because of the doppelganger that lay somewhere in Arlington?

Harm stilled his ministrations at the reference of his past lover. Diane was an infatuation of a life he thought he wanted but, in the end, he knew he'd have gone to Mac if Diane still lived. He just never felt like this about anyone and knew he never would again. Sighing, he began tracing the scars again, hands moving much more firmly over Mac's back, kneading the muscles that were tight beneath his palms. "No. It's a lot of things."

"We've never really untabled our conversation...Just kinda let it go..." She couldn't help the insecure tone to her voice or how her words caught in her throat when his hands came up to her shoulders, gripping the tighter muscles.

"Does it matter anymore?"

Mac sighed and rolled onto her back, pulling up the bed sheet to cover her nakedness as she did so. "We can't pretend the past didn't happen, Harm."

"You can't pretend those scars don't exist."

"I'm _not_ pretending, I _know_ they're still there. I can feel some of them when I shower. I have to hide them at times. And they do matter, the past does as well... Why are you here? After everything, why?"

"Because, I love you."

Mac stared at him and frowned. Love sometimes didn't last no matter how badly you wanted it to. They had lived through a multitude of difficult situations, the last two years being the worst. She wondered how much more he would continue to take until he tired of her and left like everyone else did. "That isn't an answer enough."

Her words made him shoot out of bed, sighing heavily as he began to pace. In the last few months, Harm purposely steered clear of speaking about their past out of fear of losing her. "What do you want to hear, Mac? That I can't live without you? That I was miserable without you? That I blame myself for how Paraguay went down? That I'm an idiot for not realizing what you wanted back in Australia? It's _my_ fault..._all _of it has been because I was too scared to tell you how I felt."

"Don't play the martyr, Harm."

"Martyr? Me? You're the one that gave everything up...The one that served yourself up on a platter to the agency and for what exactly?"

"For _you_! They would have destroyed you, sucked all of the good out of you and I wasn't going to let that happen."

Harm shook his head, exasperated at how simple Mac tried to make that sound. "I didn't ask you to do that! I knew what I was getting myself into when I came after you. I knew it would be Hell and I would do it again if it meant saving you." Only, it pushed her to the CIA, moved her into a World that neither of them belonged to.

With a heavy sigh he sat on the edge of the bed. "I should have told you what I felt not acted like an ass...I should have pulled you off that table and kissed you senseless….I should have…" He stopped when her hand reached out and caressed his bear back, slow and soothing only to be replaced by Mac's lips. Her arms came around him, hugging Harm tightly to her smaller frame. "We can't go back...Only move forward..."

"You're right." She held him for several long minutes until the residual anger left him completely, a catharsis of sorts.

"I don't see her when I look at you... I did once, in the beginning, it was kinda hard not to. But, I never felt for Diane what I feel for you, no one will ever come close."

"Why me?" She asked in a voice so soft he may have missed the questions if he so much as breathed.

He turned into her, moving Mac so that she was straddling his waist and then pulled her head down so that he could kiss her. "You're the other half of me, Sarah... No woman has ever stood equal to me, intrigued me, loved me like you... You're my partner in every way."

Mac looked at him sadly. He bore his soul with those words that she knew left him emotionally vulnerable and naked. He'd grown up and she hated herself for hurting him. "I told you once that there's things you don't know... Things I've done that were not good... I'm not _that _woman anymore...Sometimes...Sometimes, I don't know who I am."

"Oh, Mac." His fingers traced her cheeks, lips, eyes. He brushed her hair back and tucked a strand behind her ear. "You're good for me...so good for me."

Mac gasped when his hand dropped between them, fingertips moving over the marking on the left side of her pelvic area, her "classified" tattoo. It was faded, the bleeding rose etched onto her skin so long ago. "Why a rose?"

"Chris used to say I was his 'rose'… a teenaged and stupid Sarah MacKenzie got it inked along with his initials." A brand of drunken love that she despised but never got rid of merely took little care to protect that area of skin so that it had faded.

She yelped when Harm moved, tossing her onto the mattress only to kiss his way down her body. He stopped at the tattoo and traced the design with his fingers. Although faded, it was still simple and elegant. "Hmm, I didn't see the initials before."

Mac grinned. "Of course you didn't...You were too busy doing _other_ things to notice… There's a spot that is a little marred." A fingertip dragged over that certain spot, a petal that was darker than the others. "I tried to burn it off after I dried out...Wanted nothing more to do with him and my past… it got infected, not much is left of the letters." And another trip to a tattoo parlor made the colors more vibrant and painted over the marred skin.

"Oh Mac…" He pressed his lips on the tattoo and added it to the long list of scars he wanted to heal. "We met in a rose garden."

"We did." That memory always made her smile - meeting a handsome sailor amongst the beautiful flowers. It was like a fairytale of sorts. "It's what I think about when I see it." She said breathlessly, when he moved lower and his tongue parted her. "Oh, Harm…"

He moved achingly slowly, barely there licks and nibbles and kisses teasing Mac to arousal. One of her hands ran though the short strands of his hair and pressed against his head to guide him where she needed Harm the most. "There...just like that."

With his fingers Harm pulled back the hood, exposing Mac's clit which he swirled his hot, wet tongue over and around. It made her buckle on the bed and her muscles involuntarily spasmed from the oncoming climax that had her digging her heels into the mattress. "Oh God." She propped up on her elbows and watched Harm with his eyes closed as his tongue lapped her juices. "Hmmm...Harm." Her own sounds of pleasure fueled him and she could feel his lips curl into a grin - that sexy, arrogant flyboy grin.

His fingers never slid inside as she'd expected. No, he was enjoying the slow, lapping, the teasing that was turning Mac into a wanton mess. She pressed herself into him, grinding against his mouth when he stopped moving. "Harm...please...don't stop."

His answer was a rough, male chuckle. "Patience, Marine." Harm proceeded with his ministrations, avoiding her most sensitive areas while his tongue explored her folds slipping slightly inside. Mac pushed into him as well trying to encourage him to flick the tip of his tongue over her sensitive bud but a firm grasp kept her pinned in place. Her core clenched, the desire to have him inside was driving her mad as she flirted on the edge of another earth shattering orgasm.

Her moans increased with each path his tongue took and Mac was certain she would die of need if he didn't take her now. But, when his lips surrounded that wonderfully sensitive bundle of nerves, she screamed his name.

Harm took the engorged clitorous into his mouth sucking softly at first and increasing the pressure as she writhed against him. His strong hands held her down, keeping her exposed to him as he made her come on a strangled cry. He kept licking her, sucking, kissing as Mac shook and convulsed only easing when she asked him to as the pleasure was turning to pain.

He too was shaking, holding back his own release because Harm loved to make her come. It gave him a sense of pure male pride to hear her cries and moans, the way she said his name which made his manhood twitch and swell. "I want you… so bad. I have to be inside you."

"Yes."

He took a pillow from the bed, bunched it under her hips and then slid into her without warning when he couldn't taper his desire any longer. Harm barely let Mac catch her breath or accommodate to his thick, hard length before he was thrusting into her. Her nails scored his back and then she hung on as they both exploded together. Damnit, what the man did to her was exhilarating as hell and she wanted more of him - forever.

* * *

Clayton Webb was furiously pacing back and forth in his office, his mind trying to gauge just where the hell 'Widow' could have gone. He groaned at the word she'd chosen for her code name but then, he figured it made some sort of sense for a woman who lost so much to the agency. "Lost? Right!" He scoffed knowing she hadn't lost a damned thing merely gave in for the boy scout who only gave a damn about her when it was too late.

"Damn you, Rabb." Of course, she was with him, he'd confirmed it when he'd contacted the base and found Harm to be away for no less than a week. The thought made him cringe and he tried to follow every alias Mac had ever used in order to gauge where exactly they could have gone.

He wasn't stupid, Clay knew he'd lost - there was no way in hell Mac would ever be his given the circumstances but, there was something more on the horizon - chatter that Sadik Fahd had been spotted in France. There was real, concrete evidence in the form of a photo of whomever the Chameleon tuned into including a tinting on the skin to cover the darker tones. At first glance, Clay thought it to be a mistake, no one could blend and hide that flawlessly. And then he saw the eyes that were covered over with the blue tint of contacts. It didn't matter, he knew his tormentor and for the next few nights sleep was nonexistent.

Each time he closed his eyes, Sadik was there tying him down to a table covered with blood and other things he would rather not remember. The pain began, without question or warning and it was as if he were reliving the moment again, each zap of the steel wool, each poking of his exposed skin. It was better not to sleep.

"_Mr. Webb?" _ His secretary called over the intercom and he quickly rushed to the device hitting the button with a little more force than required.

"You better have good news."

"_Sir, they found 'Widow' or at least a woman that looked like her taking a flight with a tall, dark haired man from Heathrow to Inverness."_

"When do they return?"

"_Sunday."_

Webb settled into the chair behind his desk and sighed heavily, the want to gave chase ran through this veins but without a concrete itinerary he'd be grasping at straws. "Any hits on Rabb's credit cards?"

"_No."_

"Damnit." He thought about sending someone to scour Inverness for a hit on Rabb and MacKenzie, he _needed_ her back here, not traipsing through Scotland with the boyscout. Webb already knew that the amount of reprogramming to get her back on track was going to take time and the longer Mac spent with Rabb he feared it would destroy whatever foothold they still had. "Keep me informed."

He pulled open the center drawer of his desk and reached inside to grab a small velvet bag which held three perfectly cut diamonds - the type of currency Sadik was fond of trading. He let them spill onto the blotter and simply stared at them as if they held some sort of answer. "Fuck." From within the same drawer he took out a small burner phone and reluctantly dialed the only number he would ever call from the device. "It's Webb...I need your help… I'll be in London at the end of the week, we'll meet then."


	17. I'm Yours To Lose

**Chapter 17 - I'm Yours To Lose**

_I'm yours to lose, yeah_

_Why do you care?_

_Beneath a thousand truths_

_I'm yours to lose_

"I'm Yours To Lose" by Zeromancer

Mac woke up in a tangle of sheets and pillows, her body aching deliciously from the second...third..._fourth_? Oh hell, Mac couldn't remember how many times they'd made love including one time in the shower which then led to them making love in bed, _again._ It had never been like that with anyone, the want to be so close and so connected, the conversation between lovers so uniquely intimate. They'd exhausted each other until she groggly told him he was insatiable. To which he chuckled and countered, "Just as much as you are."

At some point they actually slept although she couldn't tell when or how long that had been, the man had thrown her impeccable timing out of whack. And Mac simply didn't care because she didn't want to know anything else except for the love of a man she was currently sharing the same life with. _This_ is what had been missing the feeling of loving and being loved in return without the added complexities that they had saddled themselves with. And she wasn't going to lose him again, her life depended on him.

Mac got out of bed, showered and then followed the scent of coffee as it wafeted from the kitchen. She poured herself a mug and spotted Harm through the windows as he stood on the porch leaning over the balustrade with his own coffee cup in hand. She smiled at how light her heart felt in his arms, like the weight of the last few years had almost vanquished.

"Can we stay here forever?" She stepped outside and wrapped her arms around his waist from behind then pressing a kiss onto the center of his back. God, how she loved him.

He rested the mug on the smooth wooden top and then turned in her arms, dipping his head so that he could kiss her. "Forever, huh?"

"Yup...I don't want to go back."

He grinned at the idea, there were worse things in the World than being holled up inside a cottage nestled in the mountains with a sexy Marine. He tilted his head in thought and raised his brows as if considering her request. "Well...I have a pretty nice trust fund; we can buy this place and take odd jobs in town."

He was joking, she knew but, the idea of living in such a serene corner of the World was a pleasant one. "I'd like that. No more running around the World. No more CIA or chains of command."

"Maybe we can make good on that baby deal?" Intentionally one hand dropped between them, under her shirt and to her flat belly. His fingers pressed and curled against her skin as he envisioned Mac carrying their child. She would look so stunning and he would do everything in his power to keep them safe and happy.

The question made her heart skip a beat and not in a good way. Mac tried not to think about their little agreement, a ridiculous idea to have a child together that hung over them like a dark cloud. God, how long had it been since they shook hands on the steps of JAG Headquarters? Little AJ's fifth birthday had come and gone since then and given the agency imposed IUD Mac was assigned, there was little chance of that happening.

Mac brushed his hand away. "I'm not ready for that… I may never be." She almost hated to say it but it was the truth. Now was not the time to add a child to the mix.

"It's okay. I understand." His hand came to her face, wiping away a solitary tear that ran down her cheek. Harm could sense her grief, he could see it in the way her eyes sadly clouded over with something more than sadness. The mirth she'd stepped outside with just minutes ago disappeared like ash in the wind and he felt like a heel for bringing up that silly deal. "Hey… Don't cry."

"It's not that I don't want to but...What they did to me, whatever it is lives inside me…I'm scared. Look what I did to you." Although the desire to hurt him had been staved Mac wasn't sure what horrors still lay dormant inside of her. Was it enough to make her hurt her own child? She hoped not but that darkness was real and unpredictable; he would never forgive her and she wasn't going to risk losing him because of it. "I love you but, I can't do it."

The desperation in her voice made him want to cry as well for her, for him and the time they'd wasted for reasons that no longer made any type of sense. He pulled her back into his embrace and pressed a kiss at the crown of her head. "Okay then, just you and me… maybe some alpacas?"

"Alpacas?" She couldn't help but laugh. The mental image of Harm, dressed in some native outfit herding a throng of alpacas across the mountainside was just too comical.

"I love the sound of you laughing… I missed it."

"I missed it too." She sighed and pushed aside the bitter thoughts that wanted to make themselves heard. She brushed aside the fear of what a certain terrorist was capable of. They had a few days left at the cottage and Mac was determined to make them all happy ones. "You're my lifeline, you know? No matter how bad that darkness tells me you're not... I did this for you.. I'd give my life for you."

Life. It was the most precious thing anyone had ever offered him and a sacrfice that Harm could not question. She had already given up so much to keep him away from the brotherhood and he knew she would give it all if it came to him. Mac's selflessness made his heart both soar and ache. She'd been hurt because of him and Harm didn't know how to fix that, how to make her whole again but, he would continue to try. "Sarah..." He barely noticed how much of an effect her affirmation had on his soul until Mac's thumb brushed away the tear that slid down his cheek. .

She smiled and then raised herself up on her toes to press a kiss against his lips. "I guess I'm not the only one crying this time."

* * *

When you're born rich and used the endless wealth the Webb family enjoyed, rules didn't necessarily apply. They were meant to be manipulated, enforced at will and, on occasion, ignored all together. Which was how Clayton Webb secured a private jet in order to travel to London incognito. To the Director, he was taking a few days off to help his mother through a minor surgery which kept him out of the office.

To the small group on board with him, including one Dr. Gutierrez, the agency psychiatrist that had programmed Mac.

He aimed to rescue her, in the very loose form of the word. In reality, he would take her by force if necessary.

Search and Rescue was the guise he had used in order to recover their maligned officer. Those on board knew not to question the Deputy Director and others feared the ramifications of not following orders. Clay rather liked his powers and he was good at using them. "Mr. webb, what condition do you feel the Colonel will be in once we retrieve her."

He'd lied, of course although it wasn't exactly a complete fibb. Mac had regressed back to her old self with only slivers of the agent they created. What he feared most was losing that edge, the perfect soldier to carry out whatever he needed to without fail. It wasn't so much about his attraction for Mac anymore although that still burned, he knew she would never be his. Clay just needed to make sure she would never be Rabb's either.

He underestimated the control and thought that pushing her to the boy scout would be a good thing, a way to soften her recklessness. Never would he have figured that Rabb would be the catalyst to sever it completely. Sometimes he felt terrible for the pair and what he needed to do in order to capture Sadik Fahd. There would be casualties, Mac knew this when he warned of the dangers of joining the Brotherhood. Some officers never made it back physically or mentally and she'd been on the cusp of being one of the lost.

Sadly, a decision needed to be made, Mac's life or his and Webb was too damned young to die even if it was for his country. "The man she's with is dangerous, he's trying to deprogram her and I think he may have succeeded."

"The Commander?" The doctor asked with curiosity, she was sure Sarah MacKenzie would loathe the man for all time. "That's impossible. The mantra is air tight if it breaks it's likely the Colonel would die of an aneurysm rather than just deprogram."

"Aneurysm?"

Dr. Gutierrez nodded. "Why do you think we use it sparingly? The mortality rate isn't very promising, most will die."

"Not Mac. Somehow she'll beat those odds."

"How willing are you to test that theory, Mr. Webb?" His silence was answer enough. "Has she had nose bleeds? Constant headaches?"

"Some."

"Then _this_ may kill her. Are you willing to risk that?"

Webb wanted Sadik Fahd and Mac was the key to campurting him. She was the one he sought after for reasons Clay didn't even want to fathrom. Yes, he cared for her too but, his own survival came first. There was no way in hell he'd suffee tuat kind of torture again or tye nonths and months of rehabilitation to function.

He kept the man away from Mac back at the Chaco and he wasn't willing to do that again. Especially now that she made her interest so clear - she prefered that reckless boy scout. "I'm willing to risk anything. Just do your fucking job."

* * *

They walked into Harm's flat kissing and he barely had a chance to drop the luggage by the door before Mac pushed him against it. "You're gonna pay for tickling me, flyboy."

Harm turned them so that he had Mac pinned up against the door. He had that smug look and his sexy grin but, when Mac thought he'd continue kissing her, Harm backed off slightly. "God, I hope so..Do your worst, Marine."

She gripped his dog tags and pulled him close to her. "Not sure you can handle it, Captain." Her voice dropped to the most seductive timbre and Mac gasped when she felt his arousal press against hers.

His answer was to kiss her, hard and passionate, his tongue dancing with her own as Mac practically melted into him. It was her soft sigh of surrender that nearly had him ripping the jeans off and taking her right then and there in the living room. God, how he wanted her, always would, he supposed because even after a week of making love to her whenever he wanted, Harm still needed more.

His mouth came down to her neck as his fingers began popping each button of the blouse she wore. Mac's hands guided his head down to her chest, urging him to suckle her breasts. Every pull of her nipple into his mouth sent warm, wet heat pooling between her thighs until her jeans felt positively uncomfortable.

Harm raised her up and when her legs wrapped around his waist ground into her again which helped alleviate his swelling erection. So much for that precious control he tried to hold onto for so many years. He knew the first time they made love, that was all over he'd belong to her without question.

Between kisses and the subtle feeling of his baldness between the fabric of their jeans, Mac was panting and not above begging for more. "Make love to me...Skip the foreplay and the teasing."

His mouth latched onto her other breast and he nearly laughed when Mac pulled his head up.. "Harm, please...I want you so bad."

"Here or bed?"

"Bed."

"Okay." Harm eased her down to her feet and when she was about to scurry to the bedroom, he did the unexpected by gabbing Mac and tossing her over his shoulder. She yelped and protested, finally breaking into a fit of laughter when he unceremoniouslyuncerimonously dropped her in the center of the mattress and

brought his body over hers.

Clothing fell away with each feverish kiss as his need to have her naked beneath him and Mac's to have his skin pressed against hers made them equally desperate. She pulled him down, fused her mouth against his own as her hand snaked between them to take hold of his arousal. Mac guided him, raising herself up so that she would sheath him in one hard movement.

"Oh, Mac." Being inside of her, the sensation of Mac's warm depths wrapped around his length made Harm pause. This was the first time they would make love in his apartment..._their _apartment, he mentally corrected taking immeasurable joy at knowing

that she was his, finally.

Mac's lips met his in a joining of a slow, languorous kiss that matched their love making. "I love you, Harm." She said between kisses, gasping as he flipped them over so that she was on top.

"Do your worst, Marine."

From the far end of the living room hiding in the shadows the man in the three piece suit sat, a disgusted look on his face at what he had witnessed. Clayton Webb wasn't quite the voyeur although his occupation taught him to be one. However, the last thing he needed to see was a pre-coital union between Widow and the boy scout.

He swallowed down the bile that rose up at the obvious damage that her involvement with Rabb had caused. She was broken now, whatever shred of company programming disappearing the longer she spent time with him. He truly didn't want to hurt her as his affinity for Mac's talents had grown through the years but he had no choice - Webb _needed_ her. "God damn you, Sarah."

The obvious sound of love making echoed through the flat and he cringed each time Mac cried Harm's name and vice versa. He shook in anger and tempered the desire to bash through the door and pull the man off of her. Force would not work and if Harm knew Mac had been taken, he would only give chase. The Navy man was like a dog with a bone that way - relentless and Clay hoped a freshly broken heart would stop him.

Webb was methodical and surreptitious in his work and waited for reassuring silence to retrieve a metal suitcase that waa on the floor next to him. Inside was a small, half liter tank whichtank ro which he screwed in a long, thin hose. From the case he pulledpuller outour a respirator which Webb secured over his face and then room several deep breaths to male sure it worked.

The volatile anesthetic inside the tank was a bit crude but effective and a trusty friend when not wanting to barge in guns-a-blazing. For this particular endeavor, he needed Mac to come quietly. Furthermore, he needed Rabb to stay away. Carefully, he introduced the tip of the small hose under the bedroom door and opened the valve as far as it would go. The powerful anesthetic was an agency concoction that would subdue and not kill quite rapidly.

A loud thud from inside the room alerted him that someone had passed out. From his phone he punched in a few digits ahd soon two large men, also wearing masks, entered the flat.

When he stepped into the room he found Mac's nude form crumpled at the foot of the bed and Harm was passed out in bed. "Grab the girl and make sure you take a suitcase and fill it with her clothes."

From inside his breast pocket Webb produced a white card with what appeared to be Mac's handwriting sprawled across the cardstock.

In the front was one word. _'Harm.'_

The back was just as simple but, much more devastating. _'There will never be an us.'_

She was leaving him again.


	18. How Far Does The Dark Go?

**Chapter 18 - -How Far Does The Dark Go?**

_If the coast is clear, why can't I see_

_If the stakes are loaded, why's it seem I'm losing everything_

_Stare down the fear, like a loaded gun_

_On the bottom track, why's it seem I can't see anything_

_How far does the dark go?_

The headache was different, not quite as painful but more like a pressure that nothing would stop, not even the mantra nor the feel of Harm's skin on hers. It pounded away, squeezing and releasing until Mac's eyes fluttered open and focused on a beige fabric that lined the ceiling. She found it odd, the colour combined with faint movements, a shifting, some bumps as if she were in a vehicle of some sort

Decidedly she was dreaming as Harm's ceiling was white, adorned with a dark crown moulding whose design carried throughout the flat. He was likely having a nightmare, shifting to and fro beside her which accounted for the jerky movement. But, as her senses slowly came online and she tried to turn to touch him, she found the bed she was in to be cold and empty.

Then there were the smells, a combination of him and her that mixed and lingered so pleasantly on everything she owned. The short time living together was as if she'd absorbed a part of him, welcomely so as Mac loved to turn over in the morning and breathe him on the sheets. It eased the anxiety, made her feel as if the darkness was surmountable. These smells that assaulted her senses were different, stale an almost chemical like polish and disinfectant.

And why was her mouth so dry? Stuffed with a cotton kind of icky that when she tried to swallow, Mac choked on thick saliva.

"Get her some water. _Now_." A dream became a nightmare, the voice of Clayton Webb pulled her into the present and her eyes again focused to find she was in the rear bedroom of a private airplane.

"Clay?" Mac felt a hand on her back, raising her up into a sitting position until her feet hit the ground. A strong arm wrapped around her waist and she was moved to the middle of the plane and settled into a large leather chair and immediately a cool bottle of water was raised to her lips. She took several deep gulps and eventually downed the whole bottle as that was the only way to quench the terrible thirst. It helped ease the ache in her head somewhat. "Clay, what is this? Where am I?...Where's ...Where's Harm?"

He wasn't there, she knew it could sense it as if they were linked in some way. Perhaps they were, she decided, it was the only way they kept coming to each other despite immeasurable odds. Webb cringed visibly when she mentioned the other man. This was not going to be an easy endeavor, without the constant "treatments'' at Langley, he knew the control had slipped and become something else all together. Widow was still inside but, he suspected it would not last much longer if he didn't intervene. "You're okay, Sarah. You're safe."

"Fuck being safe...Where the hell is Harm?!" She demanded with a bit more force and the sudden surge of adrenaline brought her senses online. Mac looked around to spot many familiar faces from Langley settling on Dr. Gutierrez who sat just across from her with that famously impassive expression. She knew exactly what this was, the agency's branded form of intervention. "No. No… Oh God, no."

As foolish as it was, she rushed towards Clay, murderous intent forcing her to slam into him so hard he was knocked off the chair and onto the floor. She pounced on him, delivering blow after rage filled blow until someone pulled her off. "You sick, sadistic son of a bitch. What did you do to Harm?"

She was slammed back onto the leather chair, held back by two burly men that often carried out some of Webb's shadier deeds. One of them slammed a fist across her cheek which only enraged her more. It was Webb that stopped them from touching her, sitting at another chair that was right next to Mac as he dabbed the blood that was running down his nose and over a busted lip. "Don't hurt her… Calm down, Sarah."

"Stop calling me that!" She tried to rush him again but strong arms held her back until Mac was forced to calm down and relax. She took another bottle of water, offered to her by Dr. Guttierez and drank it in just a few swallows. "What is this?"

"I need you. Your country needs you and I knew you wouldn't just come if I asked." Webb said simply. "Sadik is in Washington."

_Sadik_. The name made a shiver run down her spine. The man had taken so much from her although he never really laid a hand on her flesh. It was the emotional toll, the monster she became in order to defeat the threat and keep Harm safe. "Why is _she_ here." Mac pointed at the doctor, her hand quivering lightly at the answer she knew she would be given.

"You need help, Sarah." Gutierrez said, using that calm tone that once had Mac trusting her. Now, she knew different, the reasoning behind the consensual psychiatric visits that had nothing to do with easing the stress of the job. They had turned her into a killing machine, taken away what was good in her and molded it into pure hatred. "A session will help those blanks in your memory. Clayton told me about your blankout in Paris."

"_Treatment?_ That's what you call programming me? _Treatment?_ I'm _not_ doing that again. I won't let you."

"Sarah."

"No." Even as she tried to fight the suggestions, the mantra had already begun drumming at the edges of her mind. Mac had almost forgotten the words, choosing to replace them with another phrase that could free her. But, that damned familiar headache joined the battle threatening to force her compliance or take her life altogether. "Where's Harm?" She was crying now, begging. _Please don't let him be hurt._

Webb let out a long suffering sigh. "He's in London, probably waking up with a pretty nasty headache I suppose."

"He doesn't know about this, does he?" It was foolish to ask, of course he wouldn't because Harm would move Heaven and Earth to find her, he would be on this very plane with her. Mac's chest began to hurt, right over the area of her heart. It was a sharp pain and without thought she rubbed a handover the spot. Harm would _never_ forgive her for this. "He'll believe I left him… I didn't… I didn't leave him." Frantically, she stood up meaning to reach some sort of communication device to call, to let him know she loved him and this was forced upon them. "I have to call him. He has to know."

"You can't. He'll come after you and we can't have that. I don't need him in the way again."

Mac was crying now, the tears freely running down her cheeks. She choked on a sob, shook from the desperation of being unable to assure him that she hadn't left. "I told him… _Promised_ him I wouldn't leave." She told him over and over at the cottage, swore her life on that promise that nothing would keep them apart. "Please, Clay."

This would destroy him, she knew because the man that Harm had become needed her as much as she needed him. He'd finally given in with his heart and soul, relinquished that precious control that kept them apart for so long. He loved her and this would break his heart. "I promised him."

"Well, guess you'll break that promise."

Webb's callused words had her rushing at him once more, getting in a few hard punches until the men restrained her once again. "You son of a bitch. How could you do this to me? You were our friend, we trusted you… I trusted you!"

"None of us, not even Rabb is safe if Sadik remains alive." His words had an oddly calming effect, enough to have her stop trying to resist the men that had her restrained. "Got your attention now, huh?...Look, I need you and didn't want Rabb in the way. I saw what being with him does to you, Mac. You lose your objectivity, keep blacking out and forgetting and I need you fully operational. Can you tell me that you can battle Sadik like this?" He motioned at her with an obvious look of disgust. His perfect CIA officer was only a shell of what they'd turned her into.

Mac glanced between Gutierrez and Webb, settling her gaze back on the doctor. "I can't do _this_ again."

Gutierrez smiled. "Yes, you can, Sarah. I promise you, we'll take it easy, guide you back under. You want to protect him, this is your chance. This is what you were designed to do."

"Okay."

….

Guiterrez and Webb escorted her back to the bedroom, urging Mac to lay down as a needle was inserted into her left arm and run to an IV drip. Whatever fluid was being introduced burned, she felt it move through her veins, the ache building until the liquid was completely inside of her. "Sarah… I need you to remember the past. That hurt and pain you felt when the Commander broke your heart. That night in Sydney Harbor, him denying his love for you. Do you remember it?"

Mac didn't want to but whatever ran through their veins forced a compliance along with the words that were spoken from her own lips. "_There will never be an us.'' She_ felt the darkness shift and tried to claim her but, then she thought of _him_, the man in whose arms she found unconditional love. Her lifeline. "_There will always be an us."_

She could still hear Gutierrez trying to guide her as a war began to brew within, the want to be free slowly losing to the need for that control. The control had saved her time and time again, kept her from being hurt. As her body began to seize, warm, sticky liquid dripped out of her nose in a steady flow. The pain in her head grew insurmountably so, aching like it never had until Mac eventually passed out from the agony.

"What the hell happened?" Clay demanded when Guiterrez used a towel to clean the nose bleed. "Did it work?"

"Who was she with all of this time, Clay? The Commander?" Gutierrez asked and then plunged another fluid to mix with the current one.

Webb shrugged and folded his arms across his chest. "He's a Captain now but..."

"Well, you're going to have to find him and bring him to her."

"Are you out of your mind? Rabb's the one that wrecked the programming in the first place." And it was his fault, his belief that the control wouldn't slip. He should have never asked Rabb for a favour but then, he was the only one Webb trusted to find the Phonebook and keep Mac out of trouble.

"Do you want her to die? This Commander… Captain, whoever is her trigger…. The foundation of which I created the control. I can't wipe her clean, there is no going back and if we push too hard, she will die."

"You made her hate him once, do it again."

Gutierrez sighed. This wasn't what she signed up for, the destruction of innocent lives and Mac was, undoubtedly, an innocent in all of this. Used for the agency's gains. "I can't make her do anything anymore… She was new, hurt and vulnerable when we began. Sarah is none of those things now. She resented him and that's done with. She's stronger than you can imagine."

"Do _something!_" Webb hissed out, grabbing Gutierrez by the throat and intending to strangle the woman. "There is a fucking terrorist out there, gunning for me and her. I need Widow to get him first. Lives are at stake, innocent ones and we're not sure of what he's capable of. _Fix_ her. Do _something!" _He let her go.

Gutierrez's hand came to her throat, rubbing her skin as she coughed in order to take a deep breath. She was put in an impossible position and knew she had no other choice. "Bring me the metal case." She instructed, taking out a small, unlabeled vial with a syrupy type of liquid inside. "Forgive me, Colonel." The liquid was sucked into a long needle and sunk into Mac's thigh.

"What is that?"

"Don't ask...I need some time alone with her, it's the only way that hypnosis will work to put the subject into a kind of retrograde amnesia."

"Will it work?"

Gutierrez sighed. "We won't know until she wakes up."

The drug made Mac drift deeper into darkness. '_There will never be an us.'_

Four Days Later

London

Harm stood by the window watching the storm clouds that continued to roll in. It was true that London had an almost constant gloomy weather but, it hadn't stopped raining since the day she left.

He should have prepared for the anguish but, Mac duped him into believing she would stay, never leave and she would certainly never hurt him again. Harm could practically hear her voice, the confessions of love, the promises that washed away when he woke up four days ago to a terrible headache and an empty bed.

Something was wrong, his impeccable instincts tingled alive in the most foreboding sensation that he felt once before. "Mac?" He called out to her and received no answer. Groaning he pulled himself up and nearly carneed into the nightstand as he tried to get his bearings. The room was spinning, his mouth was dry and there was something most definitely _off._ Where the hell was she? "Mac?!"

He padded out of the room past the living room and then to the kitchen. The whole loft was dark except for the little bit of light entering through the sliding glass door amidst the storm raging outside. With each second that passed, Harm felt desperate. She wouldn't have left without telling him, she would have left some sort of note. "Mac?" That was when his panic set in, making his heart hammer in fear which amplified the moment he stepped back into _their _bedroom.

Sitting atop of the nightstand on her side of the bed was a note written on white cardstock. One side had his name the other would push Harm over the edge to an incensed fit of rage. '_There will never be an us.'_

Harm read the note once, twice and a third time all the while praying this was some sort of nightmare he needed to wake from. "No. Damn you, Sarah, no!"

The note crumbled in his fist and he tossed against the wall where it bounced off and landed just under the bed. He couldn't control his fury any longer and found that he didn' want to either. With a blood curdling yell, Harm swiped his arm across the every hard surface in his room, roughly pushing bottles of her perfume and even the small jewelry box he'd bought her hurtling to the floor. It all landed in a loud crash and then he set his sights on the closet which was nearly empty but, still had some of her clothing.

He tore it all apart, tossing all of her clothes onto a heap on the floor before turning to the bed. It would smell of _her -_ of _them_ \- and the love he thought they made that night. Harm stripped the sheets, yanked the cases off of the pillows and combined it with her clothes to shove down the garbage chute. He would have set it all ablaze if he could and instead found every single item that reminded him of Sarah MacKenzie and tossed them all away.

Pictures, notes, her skin cream and even that damned USMC mug that sat next to his in the cupboard. It was all garbage, all remnants that needed to be destroyed. Once the cleansing had been done, Harm returned to the room, slammed the door and slid down the back until he settled on the floor. He allowed himself to cry then because the rage had died down completely leaving him with vulnerable thoughts and emotions.

Harm buried his face in his hands he let powerful sobs consume him, crying until there was nothing left but anguished hiccups. How could she do this to him again? He wished he could explain it or at least understand the methods in which she operated. For one blessed week they lived together in the cottage hanging between love and passion. It seemed _his_ Mac had finally returned or at least a version of her that he remembered. There was still darkness there, he knew and she'd told him as much but, with each passing day it seems that would soon be a memory.

Once the rage tempered down and emptiness settled inside him and with a heavy heart he ventured down to the basement retrieving whatever he could salvage from the garbage. The pictures he'd shove into a drawer, the sheets and clothing he tossed in a corner of the closet where they would remain.

The last few days he'd thrown himself into work, it was easier to bury his head in case file after case file than think about her. Calls were never answered, in fact, it appeared she'd disconnected her cellphone and even Langley refused to give him information on Mac. He'd tried other avenues exhausting each one until he decided to give up. He wouldn't go to Webb this time either, wouldn't make himself out to be that pinning idiot again.

If she wanted nothing to do with him than so be it.

Unfortunately, he would dream of her every night, both happy dreams and nightmares. And it was the nightmare that was most jarring particularly the one that woke him from a fitful sleep earlier that morning.

Harm was walking through the upper level of a warehouse filled with a heavy haze that shrouded the building in mystery. He was sweating profusely, inching his way through a catwalk and towards an office at the end of the walkway. Halfway there he heard a woman screaming in pain and the zapping sounds of an electrical current that dimmed the lighting inside of the building.

The screams belonged to Mac, he knew and her voice echoed through the building as she begged her tormentor to stop. He doubled his efforts, began sprinting across the catwalk but, with each step the office seemed farther and farther away. He was losing her, Harm could sense it, the pain that was forcing Mac to black out only to be brought back by smelling salts and have the same torture repeated on her frail body.

After what seemed like forever, he stepped into the office finding Mac dangling by her arms and only the tips of her toes grazing the ground. Her clothes were partially torn off exposing more of her than any other man had a right to see. She was bleeding through the gashes in the fabric and her face was marred by cuts and bruises as well as a swollen eye. Her short hair was plastered to the sides of her face and her head hung limply, chin to her chest. She was also wet and water sluiced off of her dripping onto the ground.

There were cables that ran across the office and rested on the floor by her feet. He followed them, finding one Sadik Fahd standing by a bank of car batteries. "I wondered if her lover would come to free the whore."

"She isn't a whore and you're a dead man." Harm raised his arm, pointing his gun at the terrorist but, when he tried to fire the trigger wouldn't work.

Sadik found joy in this, his sadistic laughter filled the room they were in. "I'll give you two choices Mr. Rabb… Shoot Sarah or shoot yourself. Just two choices."

The man walked to him, stopping just a breath away. Sadik turned Harm, pointing his outstretched hand towards Mac who had begun to moan in pain. "Put her out of her misery, Captain… End her pain." Without much thought, Harm pulled the trigger.

He heaved a heavy sigh and settled back into his chair thankful that he was alone in the office. It gave him a chance to think about the nightmare and wonder if his initial thoughts held any weight.

What if Mac was in danger?

What if in his anguish and selfishness he'd missed a key part? From the bottom of a drawer he pulled out a bottle of single malt scotch and poured some into his empty coffee cup. The note, _her_ damned Dear John letter sat on his desk blotter, crumpled and slightly torn, the edges frayed.

Harm threw back a shot of scotch and then settled his gaze on every word on that blasted note. There was something he had missed, he knew and that note was the ticket to finding what went wrong. It was then that he noticed something very odd that he hadn't noticed upon his first inspection of the cardstock - it _wasn't_ Mac's handwriting.

"No." He focused his eyes on each letter, the way they swept across the page that was familiar to her scribe but wasn't. Mac had specific ways of ending each word but, the biggest give away was his name on the opposite side. Oh, the handwriting was damned close but it wasn't hers, not at all. Instinctively, he brought the paper up to his nose taking a deep whiff to find the traces of a man's cologne - it wasn't his but that particular scent belonged to someone he knew. He slammed his fist onto the desk. "Webb."

The son of a bitch had taken her, Harm was sure of it now and felt a deep seated guilt that he hadn't considered that option until now. Mac had promised him again and again that she would never leave him. He should have believed her.

Staring at the letter he tried to piece together what exactly had happened. They'd arrived home, laughing and kissing only for him to throw Mac iver his shoulder and dump her in bed. Making love had been passionate and desperate if not a little rough as if they'd tried to brand one another.

That's when his memories became hazy.

Mac had slipped out of bed, seducing him to join her in the showee and he'd watched as she swayed her hips to tempt him. And then nothing…

Nothing… Until he woke up in bed with the oddest of headaches and cottonmouth. She was gone. Some of her clothes are missing. She'd left him.

_"You're my lifeline, you know? No matter how bad that darkness tells me you're not...I did this for you...I'd give my life for you."_

Mac's voice resonated in his mind, her words that she'd spoken at the cottage when they were both at their happiest. Those weren't the words of a woman that would leave him so ruthlessly. She loved him and she needed him now more than ever.

Desperately, he opened up a World map on his computer and stared at each country as if he would get a hit on her location. She'd found him once in the middle of a storm tossed ocean and he wondered if the fates would afford him that gift just this once.

Harm concentrated on the screen and impatiently waited for some sort of sign but, there was none. Nothing seemed to draw him to a specific spot or location. There was no tingling sensation, no gut feeling or vision. "Where are you? God, help me find her, I swear I'll never let her go again if I do. Help me, please."

He gripped the edges of the desk, waiting...waiting. "Sarah, please...help me find you." He pleaded and his eyes brimmed with unshed tears. "Please."

The answer came in the form of a phone call which was patched directly to his office from a guardian angel Harm should have relied on from the start. "_Harm, get your six on the first plane to Washington. I think Mac's in trouble." _It was AJ Chegwidden.


	19. Half

**Chapter 19 - Half  
**_Never wanted to be here now  
__One foot in the grave, other on the ground  
__I can't process what I'm feeling now  
__This skin I can do without_

"Half" by Pvris

**Undisclosed Location**

Mac groaned, trying to shift in the crappy little metal bed crammed into a corner of the office she was held hostage in. Her left wrist was painfully bound to the frame of the bed with a thick tie wrap, not that she had anywhere to go. She tried to take a breath and instantly winced from the pain which radiated from her ribs throughout her whole body. They were probably broken, she figured but the fact that she could still breathe meant that, at the very least, they hadn't punctured a lung. Sadik had stayed away from her face, choosing her torso as his canvas for the torture he would administer.

She didn't know exactly where he had taken her only that they were likely somewhere within the Washington DC, Virginia area. Mac hadn't been bait as Webb had originally suggested. There was no scouring Washington for the terrorist, no investigation and absolutely no stake out. She was _sacrificed_, offered up to Sadk Fadh like a lamb to the slaughter.

And she was doing this for _Harm _to keep _him_ away from this kind of suspended reality, a life of unbearable pain. This was the moment Mac had trained and fought for, the seconds and minutes, a lifetime of anguish just to keep Harm from suffering the same. She actually laughed when Sadik drew first blood, stringing her up from the rafters in some abandoned warehouse that reeked of mold and something chemical.

He'd hit her, fist crushing into her torso repeatedly until her laughter became muffled groans. She wouldn't cry, wouldn't beg no matter what he did to her. Mac would take it, using her mantra to shift her mind into a darkness where pain was manageable. The headaches began as well as the nose bleed when each punch resonated deep inside until she heard more than felt a crack. It brought her out of the programming and the pain that followed forced a sob that Mac couldn't stop.

"She feels." Sadik said and gently brought her down from her bindings, carrying Mac to the bed she was tied to now. "Sarah, I don't want to hurt you but, it's the only way." He was actually kind to her then, raising her shirt to slather some sort of mentholated ointment on her bruised skin. He had fed her, helped her drink water to wash down the meager meal and then, he was gone leaving the promise to return.

One thing was for certain, Mac _knew_ she would break. It may not take an hour, a week or a year but, with time Sadik would have his way, stripping all the good in her until there was nothing left. She now knew without reservation why the man sought her out so desperately, the great plan Sadik designed with Mac in mind. He didn't need Clay or Harm, they were only to be used as bait to force her compliance if need be.

Sadik _needed_ her - Being a strong woman meant that others would listen and follow specifically the children: little boys and girls of Islamic faith that needed guidance. A woman like her would be revered like one of the men and she was to be like a mother for those who would listen.

The boys would eventually join a terrorist camp once her motherly brainwashing against the infidels was all they would live for. The girls would breed more hatred or be used in suicide bombings, he didn't care which so long as the message was clear. And Mac would be the tie that bound them with the fierce tenacity that surely would always be part of her.

Maybe then he would take her as a wife, use her in other ways to ease the primal urges Mac knew he held at bay for her. It was evident in how he looked at her, leering and disgusting although that was not his primary initiative.

None of that agency programming seemed vilified now when its sole purpose was to help her battle Sadik without the emotional baggage Mac always carried. And she did expect a fight; fist to fist, body to body, crushing his bones until there was nothing left of the bastard. She never got the damned chance.

She hadn't been able to crack that imminent mission he had in place when he'd told her that innocents would die that night and more would follow the next evening. If only she had the chance to talk to him but, conversation seemed to be limited to just his verbal insults followed by a slew of apologies. He said he didn't want to hurt her but that it would aide in a rebirth until jihad was the only thing Mac thought about with the purity of a good Islamic woman.

Christ, he was going to break her if the agency couldn't find her and didn't intervene.

When he did Harm would truly never love her again.

That thought weighed over her heart so heavily that it physically hurt. He would be disgusted the moment she turned, hate her for all time, she knew and there wasn't a damned thing anyone could do to stop it. Mac would hold off as long as she could, allow the programming to work in her favor. She would pray and hope that it wasn't so easy to get her out of the country but, Mac heard the phone call to an associate when he believed she was unconscious.

After whatever havoc the man sought to disperse, the pair would be on a cargo plane en route to Cairo in two days time. Once that happened, Mac knew she would be gone for good. It gave her little consolation to know that Harm would be safe - that mission would be completed.

'_Harm._" Mac didn't want to think about him too much out of fear that, somehow, their connection would bring him to her. She didn't want him to save her, didn't need him to be put into the hands of a madman and still, her mind couldn't help but drift to him. The tears came, washing over in a flood of catharsis as she thought back to their last hours together and that week in their private paradise. It forged a belief that they would never be apart and now, she knew it was just a goodbye of sorts, a memory she hoped would never be forgotten even when Sadik's plan for her came to fruition. "Please, please, forgive me."

'_There will never be an us.'_

* * *

"I failed her." Harm was pacing, wearing down the carpet beneath his feet as he moved across the small waiting area outside of Webb's office. "I told her, I would keep her safe and I… _Fuck_. I failed her."

Chegwidden grabbed his arm and pulled the officer to a stop. "No, you didn't. This was planned. Don't ask me how I know but, it's a gut feeling I have."

"How'd you find her?"

"Meeting with Director Laughery and the SECNAV. Political bullshit." AJ spotted Mac walking down the hall, leaving Webb's office only the woman that walked past him wasn't her. It looked like her but her eyes were dark, devoid of any emotion which made a chill run down his spine. Even when he called her name, she ignored him and didn't even flinch or recognize that he'd once been her Commanding Officer. He thought it was ruse of sorts but, when he searched for that recognition in her eyes there was nothing there… but hate. "She was almost… robotic. I can't explain it."

Harm could because he knew some of what they'd done to her although Mac couldn't quite explain the process herself. There were words, a catchphrase that identified what they had turned her into using his failure at knowing how to love her against them. '_There will neve be an us.' _ He'd broken through some of that; it just wasn't enough to keep her safe. "They took her from me. I woke up alone and with a terrible headache." And when he searched the apartment thoroughly there were the footprints of heavy boots at the doorway and down the hall. "I failed her."

"You didn't fail her, Harm. _They_ did." He motioned towards Clayton Webb who sauntered into the room with a cellphone pressed to his ear.

Clay waved for them to follow them into the sanctum of his office and closed the door behind. What he didn't expect was Harm's fist to connect so sharply with his jaw knocking him to the ground. "God damnit, Rabb! AJ! Get him off of me."

The Naval Officer saw red, a kind of blind hatred that had him striking the former field agent again and again each blow with a satisfied crunch. He'd broken Clay's nose for sure and possibly shattered a part of the orbital bone until Chegwidden finally tore him off. "Let me go Admiral!"

"Killing him with your bare hands won't help us find her, Harm. _Stand down_."

Harm shook from the rage that he was forced to temper because Chegwidden had been correct. Without Webb, they didn't know where Mac was, try as he might, no supernatural act had helped him find her. "Sir?" Security had raced into the office, guns drawn and ready to apprehend the two Naval Officers until Webb waved them off. "But, sir."

"Get out." He came to his feet, retrieved a handkerchief which he pressed onto his bleeding nose and winced in pain. "Beating the shit out of me isn't going to help you… Mac's on assignment, none of which is any of your business."

"If it involved Sadik it sure as hell is my business." At Webb's knowing glance Harm nodded. "Yeah, I know that's why she's stayed in this long. What I can't understand is why you had to take her."

"I didn't…"

"Oh cut the shit, Webb. I _know_ and I'm not going to stop until I find her."

Webb produced a bottle of whiskey from a drawer filing a snifter full and downing half of the amber liquid. He plopped on his chair with a sigh and continued to dab the cloth over his battered face. "Sadik has her, Rabb… He has her and I gave her up to him."

It was Chegwidden's strong hold that kept Harm from hurling over the desk and slamming his fist back into Webb's body. "You what? Gave her up? Why?"

"Sadik had information on the three of us. He knew where you were down to your billet in London. He was after the three of us, Mac wanted to keep you safe." Webb finished the other half of his drink and dropped his gaze to the blotter. He needed to be truthful, to divulge the one little spec of truth in his whole plan to end Sadik Fahd. "I can't...I couldn't do it myself." He admitted. "I don't sleep well. It's been two years and I just _can't_ sleep well… I _see_ him everywhere I turn...I'm broken."

"I know that makes me a coward sending a woman to do my job but, I can't do it myself, Harm." He slammed his fist into the desk, the sound resonating against the walls of his office. "You don't know what it's like to be electrocuted. The pain of it hitting your skin is not that bad, it burns but… I swear to God what you feel it in your veins...I shit myself, peed on myself. The only reason I didn't tell Sadik a damned thing was because of Sarah… And then I did."

It shamed Clay to admit that he'd been broken, it was how Sadik finally knew Mac's real name, that Jane Williams was neither real or pregnant. He spilled any information he could, real or fictitious in order to live. "I thought he'd been caught. He hadn't and when I found out Sadik was still alive, I needed to use Mac to find him...I'm sorry."

"Where is she?" Harm asked between gritted teeth. It wouldn't matter the amount of paint anyone would have submitted him to, he would have never reveal anything about her. Would have died to save Mac and keep her safe. "Help me find her."

"There's a transmitter in her boot…"

"And? Where is she?"

Clay sighed, there was no easy way to explain what had happened or how. "We lost signal when Sadik took her yesterday just North of Union Station. We don't know where Mac is."

* * *

Mac sat at a small foldable table eyeing the food which Sadik had placed before her. It was still in a carton, the type used for Chinese take out and for the life of her, she couldn't stomach the idea of food. "Eat. You need to keep your strength up, Sarah."

"For what? So you could beat me again, or worse?" She shoved the carton at him, having it slide across the plastic table and onto the floor the contents of rice and what appeared to be chicken spilling on the ground. Mac won a hard slap for her insolence, the force of it making her teeth sink into her cheek and she could taste the blood.

"Why do you continue to displease me, Sarah? I don't want to hurt you." He went to a small refrigerator, retrieved an icepack and pressed it against her cheek. It seemed to bother Sadik that Mac flinched at his touch even though it was tender. "You mustn't do that, Sarah...Your face is much too beautiful to tarnish."

The way the man looked at her was almost as if he were in love and surely infatuated. His eyes that were tinted blue by contacts caressed her skin and for a moment, the stoic terrorist became nothing more than a man with wants and needs. Mac noticed how he couldn't help but gaze at her body, her breasts and downwards. She was disgusted by it but managed to hold back her disdain knowing this could be the way to freedom. "You find me attractive?"

"Yes. But, beauty fades, it's your mind, your fearlessness that I want… need, _Sarah_."

She cringed then, unable to hide how revolting she found her name on his lips as he changed the pronunciation, rolling the 'R' in the oddest of ways that made her skin crawl. "No one calls me that."

"When we are home, no one shall call you that name ever again. You need a good Muslim name, it will help your transition, _Sarah_."

"What transition? To be your slave or another wife for you to abuse?"

"I do not abuse women, Sarah. You will be taught that." Sadik raised a brow and kept the ice pack pressed to her cheek. His unoccupied hand began to move over Mac's arm in a slow, methodical pattern. He _needed_ to touch her, to feel the softness of a woman's skin that he'd denied himself in order to remain pure to his mission. His hand wrapped around her arm and moved downward until his fingers pressed into the delicate skin of her inner wrist hovering over her pulsepoint. "Your pulse is racing…Does your lover touch you like this, _Sarah_?"

She didn't speak or react, just kept that impassive look that Mac perfected in the last two years. Her breathing slowed and with it her pulse did as well so that when Sadik's fingers dug in deeper, he only felt a slow, steady beat. Mac wasn't sure just how much he knew about her involvement with Harm although it troubled her greatly to even _think_ that they could have been watched at their most intimate of times. And Harm had touched her like that, with an impossibly controlled gentleness that she was trying to forget. "Which one touched you like this? The spy or the Naval officer?"

When she didn't answer, Sadik's fingers dug in even deeper, hurting her so that the pain registered on Mac's face. "Maybe both? Who did you spread your legs for? Which one made you their whore?"

At that, Mac pulled away forcefully, able to remove her arm from his grasp. "I'm not a whore, you son of a bitch." The movement caught Sadik by surprise and forced the man to dip forward so that she was able to slam her forehead into his. It gave her time to run.

Mac raced out of the office, hurrying across the rickety catwalk with Sadik hot on her heels. She would have made it out and at the very least Mac hoped that the transmitter in the boot would give the CIA some sort of signal as to her whereabouts.

The rusted catwalk snapped in one corner just enough for the toe of her boot to catch and send Mac hurdling to the ground. The fall on her already broken ribs winded her and it was only the pure adrenaline that had one hand finishing through her boot to produce a small knife buried in a hidden compartment. She fished it out, rolled onto her back and once Sadik pounced she slammed the blade into his torso.

"You bitch!" He cried and then slammed a fist into Mac's delicate ribs which prevented her from twisting and pulling the blade to cause more damage. "You will pay for that." Both of his hands wrapped around her neck, squeezing her throat. He pressed his weight into her so that Mac could not fight against his hold. "I will remember this moment, Sarah."

Mac's vision began to tunnel and soon, she passed out.

* * *

A glass of amber liquid rested before him on the bar and Harm stared at the Scotch as if it held all the answers. Their meeting with Webb had been futile, the man claimed they'd lost Mac and he just didn't understand how that could happen with all of the sophisticated equipment the CIA boasted. He threw back the drink, sighing as it burned down his throat and down to his stomach. The want to down a whole bottle made his body shake but, he wouldn't, he couldn't. He needed to keep his mind sharp, he needed to find her. Harm knew he was the only one that could.

Before him stretched out a map of Washington displaying oddly designed roads that made up the heart of the city. She was there _somewhere_, his gut told him so only Harm wasn't sure where to look. Didn't he tell her once that he always knew where to find her? Then why in the hell wasn't that working now? "Where are you, Mac? Give me a sign, _something_."

He pressed a hand against the page, his eyes reading street names and numbers, passing past the White House and just North. For some reason, his pulse quickened as the barkeep refilled his glass with more spirit. "Need help finding something?"

Harm shook his head. "_Someone._" He took the glass, drank the rest of the liquid and when he placed it down he spotted something off. The bottom magnified a spot just north of his apartment and when he moved the glass Harm was able to _see._ His mind shut down, drifting him back to that nightmare he had, the one where he'd raised his hand and shot at Mac. This time, his visions pulled him out of the old warehouse almost as if he were standing outside of the building that was so familiar because it was only two blocks away from the loft.

For some reason, he suddenly couldn't breathe, feeling as if someone was trying to squeeze his throat. He fought the sensation which ceased once he came out of the vision. "Hey buddy, you okay?"

"I will be." He nodded, tossed two twenties on the bar and hurried out into the night. "Webb. I know where she is." Harm barked into his cellphone as he slipped behind the wheel of the Lexus heading just North of Union Station. He gave the directions to the warehouse and sped off. "Hang on, Mac. I'm coming."


	20. Looking Glass

**Chapter 20 - Looking Glass  
**_Tell me what I want to say  
__Save me for another day  
__Break me, it's the game you play  
__Hate me as I turn away_

"Looking Glass" by Birthday Massacre

"Oh." Mac pressed a hand to her head which ached relentlessly. She was no longer tied to the bed, her wrist was free to move and as she sat up, her eyes searched the small room for her captor. It was eerily quiet and then she heard the muffled groans, the sound of electricity sparking to life. "No." Carefully, she stood using the walls to keep herself upright until she walked into the larger, outside office.

Before her two bodies hung from the rafters separated several feet apart and bound around the wrist by a rope. She shook her head, fighting the hazy weight of dizziness that made her unable to focus until she heard _his_ voice. "Mac." When she focused on the sound, one of the figures came into view as if a veil had been risen. No. It couldn't be. It _shouldn't_ be. "Harm."

He was alive and at once there eyes met and locked, holding a gaze filled with pain, longing and relief. "You're alive." Harm said and had the decency to smile despite his current predicament. There was a trail of blood that ran from the edge of his forehead down over his left cheek.

His shirt had been torn and there were visible marks across his chest and torso, angry red marks that she knew were from car batteries and steel wool. "No… Not you. You were never supposed to be here." And yet her nightmares told her differently - they were a premonition.

"I'm fine." He ground out. Sadik had gone easy on him, for now. "You're hurt." Harm turned his head slightly, enough so that he could focus on the ugly mark on her cheek. At least, he didn't see any other visible signs of abuse, the sexual kind he'd feared for women in combat. She was hurt thought, he noted when Mac straightened and winced, her hand coming to hold the left side of her body.

His concern warmed her heart especially given the gravity of the situation. But, then, that was a part that she loved, he'd put her safety above his own. "I think my ribs are broken. It's not too bad. Oooof." Mac hadn't seen Sadik creep up beside her but, she felt the smack across her face that made her head nearly explode. It made her fall and hit the ground, winding her enough to immobilize.

"Don't touch her, you piece of shit!" Harm yelled. In anger he shifted his body enough so that it pulled on the rope and made his flailing body swung from his restraints. "Leave her alone!" All he could do was watch when the man took a knife and pointed it at Mac's throat, the sharp edge knicking her delicate skin enough to draw blood.. "No...Please, no. Don't hurt her."

Sadik extended the knife forward using it to point at Harm and the other man which was hanging just a few feet away. "Which one is your lover, Sarah?" He grabbed her by the hair when she failed to answer and pulled her until she looked their way. "Which one?"

When she looked up, she saw Clayton Webb's eyes staring back at her. They were dark and almost lifeless although he was still breathing. She'd seen that look before back in the Chaco when his life hung in the balance and he promised to keep her safe. His suit had been destroyed, torn so that the only fabric that wasn't ripped were his trousers and even they were worse for wear. The rest was a mess and he sported an ugly spot on his cheek where it appeared Webb had been beaten. "I'm sorry, Sarah. I'm sorry."

Webb's gaze tore away from Mac settling on the terrorist that had tormented him. He took a breath and then yelled. "We had a deal. If I gave her over you'd let me go." He shook his arms as if trying to break the ropes but, they didn't budge or loosen. He was stuck in the worst nightmare he could have conjured up. "We had a goddamned deal!"

"A deal? What deal?" Harm turned his head towards the spy, a questioning look in his eyes although he already knew the answer. "You gave her up? You fucking son of a bitch, how could you?"

"You don't know what it's like to be tortured, Rabb… This is just the icing on the cake."

Mac stared between the two of them, the only two constants - one the man she loved, the other the one which commanded her life. In a way, she couldn't live without the two of them but, there was one that mattered most, the one she needed to save - the man she gave her life for. "I'll go wherever you want without a fight. Just let him go."

"No." Sadik placed a pistol in her hand which curled around the butt with frightening familiarity. Mac knew what came next, she'd dreamt it time and time again. He'd give her a choice and it always..._always_ ended with Harm's death. "I'm going to give you a choice, Sarah...You can save one. Only one. The other I will continue our experiment."

A sick smile spread on his lips as he turned a knob on a cart lined with batteries. It made the lights inside the warehouse dim ominously and once Sadik flipped another switch electricity raced through jumper cables. It lit up the steel wool clipped to the ends making them smoke and crackle. He pressed the ends to Harm's back, leaving the wool to burn through his shirt until he heard Harm scream. "He's strong, obstinate. The spy, not so much." He walked between the men, stopping in front of Webb.

"No! No! Please don't!" Webb's terrified screams echoed within the building even before Sadik began the totrure. He chuckled when he raised the wool, pressing it together so that the fibers lit a fiery red. It pleased him to see the man cry, turned into a blubbering nothing despite the years of service to the CIA.

"Coward. I don't like cowards." And then Sadik set his sights on Harm again, the man he wanted to break. He pressed the wool against Harm's skin again, annoyed that the man would not scream. "Your lover is strong like you, Sarah."

Mac raised her arm, angling the pistol so that the sights rested between Sadik's eyes. She pulled the trigger once, twice, three and four times to hear the familiar 'click' of an empty magazine. Did she really believe he would make it that easy?

"No Sarah, you really don't want to kill me." His voice became soft, seductive. The jumper cables in his hands hitting the ground wk tuba resonating thud. "I'm going to set you free."

Sadik took the pistol from her hand, pulling the slide to shove one bullet through the ejector. He placed the pistol back in her hand and extended her arm pointing it at Harm and then at Webb. "Pick one, Sarah. The one that lives, I will set free but, not beofe I torture him within an inch of his life…You'll get to watch him scream."

Mac's hand shook as she pointed the pistol between one and the other not trusting that Sadik would let either man live. She aimed at one, closed her eyes and then pulled the trigger.

Harm's body crashed to the ground. The rope he'd hung from was severed by the bullet. At once the warehouse came alive, a CIA contingency along with one AJ Chegwidden rushed inside.

In the melee Sadik tried to escape, pressing a button to a trigger hidden inside the pocket of his slacks. It set off a series of explosions which rattled the entire building, killing some of the officers. Next, he grabbed Mac intending to take her with him.

She fought him, scrambling to release the grip he had on her throat only he was stronger. "You're coming with me." Sadik pulled her through the building, closing in on his escape but, he would never make it out alive.

Harm followed, biting back the lancing pain through his body as he hurled into Sadik. He knocked the man down with a resonating thud, the two rolling on the ground seeking supremacy. He yelled as Sadik's fist connected with a patch of sensitive skin.

The man climbed on top swinging at Harm with animalistic blows until an unbeatable pain sliced through his back sucking the breath out of him. He turned to find Mac looming over, her knife that she stuck and twisted as she pulled dripped with his blood. "Sarah?"

She pulled him off of Harm and dropped down to plunge the blade just below his rib cage. "I'm setting myself free." Mac twisted the knife again and slowly pulled it out letting the serrated edges rip and sever.

Sadik Fahd was dead.

**Five Days Later**

Clayton Webb awoke to the beeping sounds of the machines which monitored his vitals. He shifted a bit, cringing when his broken arm protested. When he tried to go back to sleep something alerted him to the visitor in his room. "Sarah."

"How you doing?" Mac motioned to his arm.

"I've had better days. Harm?"

"He got discharged today, should be sent home in an hour." Harm had been in the hospital for three days, kept in observation should his injuries worsen. They hadn't because Sadik took more interest in Webb with his methods. Mac remained by his side, sleeping a cot that the hospital staff had offered leaving only for an extensive debrief at Langley.

"You?" He noted how she held an arm to her side defensively, a clear indication that Mac too had been hurt.

"Ribs. Not much I can do but let them heal...I went to debrief. There's something I feel you should know."

* * *

"Webb's being demoted." Director Laughery had told her much to Mac's chagrin. She expected a little more from them given the lengths the man had gone to escape a terrorists wrath.

"Demoted? He should be killed."

"I don't deny that, Colonel but, I can't just put a man to death because of one mistake."

"Ma'am with all due respect, it wasn't just _one_ mistake." He'd destroyed parts of her, used her and Mac suspected that, at times, he regretted some of it, just not enough to let her go.

"He's done some good in the past, his family is prominent. This is the easiest way to appease everyone...I promise he shall never run an op again."

Mac shifted in front of the director wondering if The Brotherhood would set her free. She'd done her duty, put her body and soul on the line more than she ever intended. It was time for a reprieve. "I want out. No more of this. I can't work for you anymore."

Laughery had anticipated the request; it was evident in her smile and the knowing gaze she settled on the younger woman. No, it wasn't going to be so easy. "You were good at watching my daughter. What if I give you an option?"

"What option?"

"I know you and Captain Rabb have a _history._ As long as he is stationed in London, you can remain on my daughter's detail...No outside assignments, no handlers, you call all the shots."

"And then?"

Laughery shrugged and that ever impassive smile of hers remained firmly in place. "We'll figure that out too." At Mac's hesitation, she let out an insufferable sigh. "Colonel, we are't the military. None of those chains of command bullshit they believe work. I have the power to send you anywhere and at least you can continue to keep your pension."

"What's the catch?" There had to be a reason for this how, even in her most out of control they hadn't just cut her loose.

"I may ask a favor from time to time, Mac. You'll have the right to refuse."

Mac squared her eyes and military decorum fell away as she leaned over Laughery's desk. The woman was right, this wasn't the military. "I have power too, you know. More than you can imagine. If anything ever happens to Captain Rabb because of my involvement with you I can bring the whole house down. I will bury you."

"Please, idle threats don't scare me and I promise it will _never_ come to that. You'll call the shots."

"Why me? Why not just let me go?"

Laughery's smile faded, she bore her eyes right into Mac's so much so that it made the other woman flinch from the scrutiny. "Because, in time. You will be my successor."

* * *

"So, it's over? Sadik is he…"

"Dead, yes. For real this time." Mac sighed, glad that at least one weight was lifted from her shoulders. She'd seen the terrorist die and repeatedly pressed her fingers into his pulse point, searching again and again. It was Harm that pulled her off of Sadik and cradled her in his arms until Chegwidden found them huddled together, he'd passed out in his arms. "I'm out of field duty, Clay. It's over. We're over." She waved a hand between them; he wouldn't be her handler any longer.

"Sure you are. Laughery was here, she told me about her little plan. What did you say to her?"

She shook her head. "She _knew_. Your demotion was _your_ fault." Laughery likely didn't know all of the bitter details, the lengths Webb went to keep her under control. Mac didn't want to divulge specifics, she was afraid to and find the other woman may use the programming for her own gain.

"She has you now, huh? You made a deal with the Devil."

"For now." Until she found enough dirt on Laughery in order to get out. "At least you can't touch me anymore. Can't hurt me. Bye Clay." She meant to walk out, head held high, winning the fight while trying to end the battle. He was right in a way, she'd made a deal with the Devil and Mac would play her cards for the moment.

And then Clay left her with his parting gift. It wasn't an apology, a sign of remorse but the last vestige of the torch he carried for her, and the control. "You'll come back to me, Sarah."

"The hell I will." She spun angrily towards him and in a few long strides hovered over his bed. "You'll never hurt us again."

_Us._ Of course, she did this for Rabb, how could he forget. Webb chuckled and it was time to let her in on a little secret. "He's your trigger, Sarah... the Boy Scout is...What turns it on and off."

_'There will never be an us.' _

"Harm has the power to kill you and what's best, you asked for it. Wanted it that way." The programming had taken root due to her resentment, her pain and hurt Harm inflicted with his inaction towards her. Each painful phrase he'd uttered throughout the years of confusion cemented the programming; it was the foundation. "Rabb will hurt you again, set off that ticking time bomb and when he does, you'll come to me to keep you safe… You know you will."

"Get over yourself, Webb. You can't scare me. Your fucking lies won't work. The control is gone."

Only it wasn't, Webb knew. It was designed to linger for all time. "There will never be an us." A sinister grin spread across his face when he saw Mac flinch and stiffen. Those amber eyes flashed and darkened to an almost black hue. "See. It will always be inside of you...Go play house with Rabb all you want. You'll get bored. You need the rush, the adrenaline...You'll need _me._"

Mac stepped towards him, her darkened eyes locking on his as her fist wrapped around and pulled the hospital gown he wore. She produced a small knife from her jean pocket, hit a switch to unlock the blade which she pressed to his throat. "This blade is very sharp, if you so much as flinch I can sever your carotid with little effort. And honestly? I'd _love_ to watch you bleed."

He swallowed hard, tried to control his breathing but Clay's rising blood pressure caused the connected machines to start beeping endlessly. Mac pulled the blood pressure monitor off, silencing the noise until the only thing she could hear was his shaky breath. "If you come after us. If you hurt Harm, I'll make good on my promise to kill you, Clay. Wherever you go, wherever you hide, I will find you. It's over."

She presses the blade into his skin, smiling when a rivulet of blood leaked from the cut. "Bye Clay."

Mac found Harm in the lobby, arguing with the nurse that was trying to keep him seated in the wheelchair until it was rolled out of the sliding glass doors. She smiled, her feisty flyboy had been hurt, yes but, he would heal. She would help him heal and soon they would be home to that lovely flat in London, piecing their life back together. "Ready to go home?"

"London?" He asked her, an expectantly look in his eyes.

"Home's wherever you are." She leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.


	21. Heaven's A Lie

Okay that's it. The end of our saga. Never thought it would run this long but, I enjoyed writing a dark and frankly, kinda scary version of Mac.

Redeeming her has been hell given what she put Harm through. And this ending in a way was deserved… or not?

Heaven's a lie indeed.

**Chapter 21 - Heaven's A Lie**

_Oh, no, here it is again__I need to know, why did I choose to betray you?__Something wrong with all the plans of my life,__I didn't realize that you've been here__Dolefully desired, destiny of a lie__Set me free, your heaven's a lie__Set me free with your love, set me free._

"Heaven's A Lie" by Lacuna Coil.

Rain heavily beat down over Arlington National Cemetery along with an unseasonable cold of a winter that was coming far too early. For the tall Naval Commander walking behind the cavalcade carrying the body of a woman he loved more than life itself, the weather suited his mood. A burning cold had settled within him since she died - the rain washing away the tears that ran down his cheeks, unchecked and unwavering. He was sure he'd never cried so much before.

He fell in step with the funeral procession almost marching behind stoically, much more disciplined than the Naval officer that he was, acting with the decorum of a Marine. Behind him a the small group that had become something of a family walked wordlessly - a collection of both Navy and Marine enlisted and officers. They shared his pain, the grief but, none of them hurt more than he, how could they? They never loved her like he had and still did because he knew time would never erase her from his heart.

When the procession stopped at the funeral site, a contingency of Marines raised the flag draped casket from the horse drawn carriage onto their shoulders. With precision they guided their charge through the fresh mowed grass and onto the hydraulic lift above her final resting place.

The service was short because the Naval Officer standing at the edge of her grave couldn't survive long tributes and words that, in his opinion, were meaningless. A chaplain prayed over the group, over her and with a final nod, the flag was neatly folded and presented to her uncle - the last known kin she'd want at her side.

He stood by unwavering begging his body not to drop to the ground like he wanted to do - drop to the ground and beg God or whatever deity would listen to bring her back to him. He failed. He failed her when she needed him the most and he was lost without her. All of his talk and promises about keeping her safe amounted to nothing - a false pretense and he hated himself because of it.

"Sir? Would you like us to drive you home?"

He turned to find the petite, blond Lieutenant standing next to her Lt. Commander husband. They were both gutted, their eyes brimming with tears. She reached out to him but the Captain pulled away. "No. I can't leave yet. You go, I'll call you later."

The group dispersed, one by one returning to their vehicles with a final glance at the man barely holding it together. He waited for them to leave, for him to be alone at the edge of her grave even as the workers began to pour Earth over her. That finality made an internal flood dam burst inside him and he couldn't help but collapse to his knees and cry. "Oh Mac… Oh Mac."

Harmon Rabb Junior thought back to the day she died, the blood stained red dress that concealed just how fatally Sarah MacKenzie had been wounded. It was a parallel that was crossed, a similarity to another woman he loved and lost the same way - with a gunshot wound to the chest.

Only Diane he'd seen hours after her death, arrived too late to save her. With Mac, he'd been with her, dancing, only a breath away when the bullet whizzed by as they broke apart, hitting her square in the chest. The blood splattered against the white jacket of his mess dress turning almost pinkish as it meshed with the polyester. There was so much blood, too much blood and he just couldn't save her.

They'd been happy, so damned happy for a few months when life seemed to be normal. She still had issues, nightmares, outbursts, pain from the programming that wouldn't let her go. But, she held onto him, her anchor, her lifeline.

Harm despised the pomp and circumstance of the military galas. The need to to polish and straighten the tiny medals which adorned his chest. He was hesitant to go. Something felt off and he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Mac too had been withdrawn that day, her eyes taking on that familiar darkening look associated with agency programming.

And then he saw her step out into the living room wearing a blood red dress which clung to her hips, swept over her breasts. The darkness in her eyes was gone and a breath rushed out of his lungs at the vision of her. All he could imagine was getting her out of the dress once they got back home.

At the gala Mac was happy, an easy smile spreading across her lips when soft music echoed in the hall. They had been dancing to a lively number minutes earlier and Harm held her steadfast once the tempo slowed. She fell in step with him, her arms wrapping around his neck and his around her waist.

Despite the setting, chains of command meant nothing to either of them anymore which was why Harm didn't hesitate to dip his head and kiss her in front of his peers. He loved this woman and would let everyone know, they'd fought too damned hard for this. "I think we should give the marriage thing a try." He suggested, raising his brow as a way to challenge Mac to object.

She didn't and it won him one of those dazzling smiles of hers, the kind that lit her eyes and made him feel invincible. "Are you proposing?"

"Suggesting, really. Testing the waters...When I propose, you'll know."

"And I'd say, 'yes.'" Mac pulled his head down, fusing her lips to his in a ksis that was probably a bit too passionate given their location. She didn't care, just the prospect of being married to him was enough to throw caution to the wind.

Once the song ended, Mac slipped from his arms, a hand running down to thread with his own. And then the commotion ensued.

It was one well placed shot from a sniper's rifle that pulled them completely apart. The unbearable pain sliced through her and no CIA programming could stop the agony. It forced Mac to fall into his arms as the life spilled from her chest.

There were no more bullets, no other mele but the sound had scared the other patrons sending them scattering to and fro fleeing from a marksman that remained unseen and only had one intended target.

Harm dragged Mac towards a table, flipping it over to use for cover and dropping to the deck with her in his arms. "Sarah." The use of her given name was infrequent, said only when emotions had run higher than normal and at that moment, it was a plea when he cradled her, fingers checking over her body to access the damage.

His fingers pressed to her chest and came up covered in a red sticky substance. "No, oh God, no!" Her red dress began to turn a darker shade just above her right breast, spreading in an erratic, circular pattern that he tried to stifle with his hands.

It bubbled quickly, much too quick for him to stop, even when Harm ripped off his jacket and balled it over the wound. "Help! I need help! Please!" He yelled at the top of his lungs but, the screaming around them from the ongoing exodus was too loud. "Mac, Sarah... hold on. Please."

Mac's eyes began to glass over and her olive toned skin had taken on a pallor he'd seen once before in the mountains when they'd played hide and seek with poachers. "Harm." His name was said between shallow breaths as the reality of what happened sent a wave of shock through her.

There was no longer any pain, not really, just a slight burning sensation that she couldn't comprehend along with a weakness and lethargy. Why was she so tired? Why was her body giving up? It wasn't supposed to hurt so much, was it? "Harm, I'm cold."

"You need to hold on. Hold on for me. I'll get you help. You'll be alright." He knew that wasn't true as with each shallow breath more blood spilled from the wound. "God damnit, someone help us!"

Harm couldn't stop the tears that fell, the pain that spread deep inside at the thought of losing her. Her body had grown colder as the minutes passed, the blood spreading more and more. He looked around from behind the table, trying to find a way to save her.

"I got you, Mac." He raised her up into his arms holding her tightly, hoping some of his strength would seep into her. "You need to hold on for me, Sarah. Please. Promise me you'll hold on."

An immeasurable sense of sadness weighed over his heart when Mac's hand came up to his face. She brushed away the tears that kept falling and would have cried too...if only. "Don't cry, flyboy."

'I love you, Harm' She tried to speak, to leave him with parting words but they were unable to be spoken when Mac slipped away, her vision tunneling to blackness.

"Sarah! No, damnit! " He cradled her, strong arms tightly pressing Mac to him as if he could give some sign of life back to her. "Please, Mac... Please...Oh God. Oh God no."

And then she was gone...

* * *

"Captain... Harm?" Admiral AJ Chegwidden sat next to him, a calming hand coming to press on Harm's shoulder. The Naval officer had always been strong, unwavering, a force to be reckoned with. Even after Diane's death he'd dusted off and moved forward. But this was just a shell of the man he once was, Military facade could only go so far and AJ knew this was a blow Harm may never recover from.

"I couldn't save her, sir...I." Out of the corner of his eye, Harm could feel himself being watched, the sensation drawing his interest to the man with a three piece suit which made its way towards them. "You have no right to be here."

"She should have been a star on our wall." Clayton Webb stated motioning to the grave which was nearly covered. "Sarah was no longer military when she died."

"You fucking son of a bitch!" Harm stood, angrily grabbing Webb from the lapels of his sports jacket. "This was your doing and yours alone. I know you had her killed, Clay! And I swear, as long as I'm alive, I swear I won't stop until you pay." He shook the former deputy director and then tossed his body like a ragdoll into the ground. "You're a dead man."

* * *

Hours later, Harm sat in an oversized chair inside Chegwiddens living room. He was still in uniform, only the tie if his winter blues had been loosened and the two top buttons of his dress shirt as well.

His hand gripped around a glass half filled with scotch that he'd poured minutes earlier. He sat in the darkening room, sullen eyes focused on nothing in particular. "What do I do now?"

Chegwidden didn't have the answers nor the fatherly advice he'd been known for. Mac's death had gutted him as well just as sure as losing his own daughter would have. He tossed down his own drink and sighed heavily. All he knew was that he now needed to protect Harm. She made him promise.

"I've never loved like that...And I never will." Harm placed the untouched drink on the coffee table with a resounding thud. "I need to get out of here." He stood and hurried to the door opening it with much more force than necessary.

"We aren't done talking. Where are you going?"

Harm's hand gripped the doorknob like a vice. There was an odd sensation he couldn't shake, a pulsing of the blood in his veins like fire and ice. He needed to run although something told him to stay. "I don't know."

"You can't leave, son. I promised her I'd watch over you." Chegwidden stood, intent on stopping the younger man. He needed to, this had been as much his mistake as theirs.

"I can't. I'm sorry."

"Harm?" The sound of his name made him pause for a moment, just a breath. He turned back to the room eyes searching for some kind of answe until his decision was made. As his hand fell from the knob, the door slammed shut behind him.

It was sometime during the witching hour when a phone call rose Chegwidden from a fitful slumber. The voice on the other line didn't have to say much...he knew. It was over. "Yes, I'm his commanding officer. Okay… Yes, I'll notify his parents."

He sat up in bed and was mildly warmed by Meredith's band pressed against his back. "AJ? What is it?"

"That was Virginia police. Harm's dead. His car hit a patch of black ice, wrapped around a tree... He died on impact." He scrubbed a hand over his face, years of war and pain and anguish were the only things that forced him not to cry.

"Oh AJ, no." She wrapped her arms around him, giving a comfort Meredith knew he'd never ask for.

"They're safe now." With a heavy heart, Chegwidden stood and made his way to the living room. He poured himself a drink and raised it up in toast to two of the finest officers he'd ever had the pleasure of commanding. "I'm sorry."

At least they were together now.

No Distance would ever break them apart again.

**FIN**.

**Authors note:**

Sorry guys, okay.. I'm not.

So this ending was a challenge - I've been told some of our endings were cookie cutter, yeah this one is not.

The more I wrote this story the more I realized Mac would never been 100% Mac again. I had an idea that after all is said and done she would need heavy deprogramming, therapy etc.

You don't go through everything they did and just "Oh she's fine now…". I thought about writing a 3rd story but, I think a lot of folks just want it wrapped up.

Why Harm died was kinda simple. I was watching 'Somewhere In Time' and in the end the guy (Richard) dies of a broken heart. I had that idea in mind but, honestly, the man didn't need anymore trauma in his life. This was just a cheap and easy out. I can't see Harm just getting over Mac and starting a new life, not after everything he'd done to "fix" her. And I didn't want his pain to be long or drawn out.

So yes, that is it. No Epilogue, no cookie cutter happy ending. Cause, frankly, not everything is happy.

So use your imagination and imagine them meeting in another life, where they are not so stupid, not so hurtful to one another and just 'get it.'

**Distance:****By: Nikki Romero**

Too far gone, too far gone

When we were apart

All I'd ever do is think about you

Syncopated hearts

Light years away but I still feel your every move

Like you're in my arms, so when you're not

And now that you are, it's like you're not

Oh, I've been holding on too long

Too far gone, too hard to reach us

Turning right, turning wrong

Could've been a hundred reasons

I don't know how we got lost

I don't know how we get back

We're too far gone, don't wanna feel this

Distance between us

Distance between us

(Too far gone, too far gone)

Distance between us

Distance between us

(Too far gone, too far gone)

Baby, timing is a fine line

Between lovers and strangers

'Cause I'm lying here at night

Right next to you and I hate this

It ain't right, but it's like I'm out of sync

Out of everything we used to dream of

Now it's like we'll never be enough

Oh, I've been holding on too long

Too far gone, too hard to reach us

Turning right, turning wrong

Could've been a hundred reasons

I don't know how we got lost

I don't know how we get back

We're too far gone, don't wanna feel this

Distance between us

Distance between us

(Too far gone, too far gone)

Distance between us

Distance between us

(Too far gone, too far gone)

When we were apart

All I'd ever do is think about you

Syncopated hearts

I don't wanna feel this

Distance between us

Distance between us

(Too far gone, too far gone)

Distance between us


	22. Got Love?

Okay, so I may have lied about the ending to this story. The part with Webb was worked into months before I decided to have Harm and Mac die...I just couldn't figure out an ending to the ending or how to write the part at Chegwidden's. NOT in love with this but, every time I've opened it I was just like MEH.

So now, I can officially mark this story as "COMPLETED"

**Chapter 22 - Got Love?**

_Got enough to make the ocean look like it's a pond_

_Got enough to turn the valleys into mountaintops_

_And we live like legends now, _

_Know that we'll never die_

_We got love, we got love_

David McCabe stared out through the large window of the shack that served as his small boat rental business. From his vantage point, he caught sight of the sexy brunette clad in a silverblue bikini wading through ankle deep water with a mask and snorkel dangling from her fingers.

She was as beautiful as ever, with hair that now came to her shoulders that she ran her fingers through. The woman caught the eye of every man on the beach and David could only beam with pride at his wife. Scars still marred her lovely skin but they had healed enough that she was less self conscious to traipse around the sand in a bathing suit. To anyone that asked, it was the result of a near deadly car accident some years earlier. Only they knew the truth but, thankfully, the emotional components of those scars healed as well.

Catherine McCabe sauntered through the soft, warm sand keenly aware that her husband was staring at her hungrily. She could sense his eyes on her like a caress and hurried through the door of the shack and inside the small structure. He pounced on her in an instant, mouth fusing onto hers as if her kiss quenched a profound thirst.

He guided her through another door leading to a small room that served as an office, his mouth never leaving hers when he settled her on the edge of the desk and parted her legs. Christ, he couldn't get enough of this woman.

"Harm." She breathed his name into his mouth and shivered as his fingertips undid the ties on the back of her neck. It made the little triangles that covered her breasts fall and he replaced the cloth with his hands.

Even married for two years, they still couldn't get enough of each other. With every touch, every union, every time his tongue scraped over her pulse point, Mac knew it would always be _this_ exquisite. Her fingers ran through his hair which had grown some ever since their arrival in the small island. Although she missed his military cut Mac had to admit he still looked just as sexy.

Living in the tropics was nothing more than a favor from the most surprising of persons - CIA Director Laughery who had been thrust into an all out war with a slew of former agents led by one Clayton Webb.

It required human sacrifice and Mac knowingly put herself in the middle. She knew the plan would hurt Harm and only gave specifics to Chegwidden who she tasked with keeping him safe.

* * *

After her funeral, Chegwidden insisted that Harm stay with him, it was the one shot they had at making all of the plans work. He would keep the younger man there at all costs, even using force if he had to until she appeared. No one would expect a dead woman to use the woods behind his home to hide. Least of all could anyone expect that a woman who had been buried hours earlier as a decorated Marine would rise from the dead.

She _had_ been shot, that part wasn't a lie but it wasn't nearly as devastating as it initially appeared. There had been blood but Laughery was prepared with a team on the sidelines donned in paramedic apparel to keep Mac alive.

When Mac stepped into Chegwidden's living room she'd almost been too late. Harm's hand was on the doorknob, his body half outside. The look in his eyes made her hurt more than the wound that was still healing on her chest. He was so distraught, so broken, eyes red from crying and with a look of pure exhaustion. She hated doing this to him but, it was the only way to be free - make a deal with Laughery that would finally break all ties with the CIA.

"Harm?" The sound of his name made him pause for a moment, just a breath until his decision was made. As his hand fell from the knob, the door slammed shut behind him and he turned back into the room believing he'd finally lost his mind. This fabrication, this ghost of her was haunting him now, she'd been haunting his dreams and it appeared Mac would haunt his waking hours as well. "Harm. Look at me."

He stood frozen as the vision walked across the room and raised her arms to touch his face. Her hands trembled, fingers brushed over his cheeks, lips, eyes as a blind woman trying to map his features. The last time Mac touched him she'd been dying and her fingers were trying to wipe away his tears - like now. "Say something."

Harm's hand reached up to grab hers and that electric current sparked to life between them - real and intense as it always had been. Yes, she was real. Yes, she was alive. "Oh, Mac." When he pulled her into a crushing embrace the flood gates open and his body was wracked with sob after sob. "You're alive..."

"I'm sorry. I didn't want to hurt you again, I swore I wouldn't but…" It was the only way to be free, too bad it had to hurt either of them so much.

"How?" When they broke apart he still couldn't let her go, his hands needed to stay on her and so he took her hand and held it in a firm grasp.

"I made a deal with the devil."

The Devil. In his mind, the kind of the underworld only had one face. "Please don't tell me you're still working for Webb."

She shook her head and let out a deep breath. "Laughery… Webb's dead. I killed him tonight."

* * *

And that was her way out, to end the spook and the reign he tried to recapture at Laughery's expense. The man was using every failed assignment to pin on the director effectively trying to force the woman in to turning the whole operation over to him.

Mac had gone to him a week earlier claiming she'd faked her death in order to aid his cause. The man who had been once so quick to dislike her alcohol abuse had succumbed to much the same and worse. That made Clay easy to manipulate. After her funeral, she went to him, disguising feelings of hatred with a soft sort of seduction.

He'd been drinking when he let her into his apartment, holding the door open when she walked in wearing a platinum blond wig which concealed her identity. The time she spent playing spook had taught her to blend in and along with Webb she'd been at the funeral, watching Harm collapse as a wave of grief crashed over him. It tore at her, broke her heart but then the mantra helped her nerves turn to ice and steel. She would end that pain soon as well.

"It's rather amusing to be a ghost. But then, you know all about that, don't you?" Mac kept her voice low and seductive. When her finger ran down his chest she felt him shiver at her touch. This would be too easy, far too easy not that battle she craved as his life slipped away from him.

"The boyscout, I think you did a number on him. I wouldn't be surprised if the bastard kills himself tonight… I told you that playing house with him was boring."

He did and though Mac wanted to bleed him dry right away, there was a plan in place, brutal and effective that she needed to follow. "You did and you were right. We're the same you and I. You can give me the rush that I need." His words were being thrown back at him in such a believable way that Mac grinned as he stupidly nodded his head.

It also helped that she moved into him, backing Webb until he fell into his sofa. She straddled him then, kissed his lips hard but without any type of feeling. And he surrendered as if this were ever normal between them when Mac never ever showed any type of attraction for him.

Clay's hands roamed over her back stopping to roughly squeeze her six. She felt his length press against her and that was when Mac withdrew a syringe from inside of her sleeve and plunged it into his neck. "I told you if you ever hurt Harm you'd pay...I'm finally collecting that debt."

"What?" The hazy fog of lust dispersed and all Clay could feel was an odd warming sensation which was beginning to spread through his body. It was uncomfortable and when he tried to reach for Mac again he was hit with blinding pain. "Fuck!"

The warmth spread like lava touching each and every one of his nerve endings lighting them ablaze. When he stood, the pain crippled Webb forcing him to drop to his knees before her. As he looked in Mac's eyes he could see the evil grin, this wasn't his Sarah standing over him; it was Widow and she would undoubtedly take another life today. "Painful isn't it?"

"What...what is this…"

Mac shrugged. "Not exactly sure. It was a gift from Laughery." She moved around him, slowly and with her foot pushed away the coffee table where his phone sat. "You're not calling for help. Even if you did, it's too late."

"No...Help. me."

She laughed at his plea, a maniacal sound that nearly made her sound insane. In a way she was giddy, satisfied to be the one to end his life because he'd ended hers over two years ago. "I'd wanted this to go another way but, the serum will stop your heart and when your decomposing corpse is eventually found, everyone will believe you died because of your addiction."

"Sarah...help me." Webb managed to get to his knees and his position made him look like a devout man in prayer. She honestly never knew he had such fight left in him but then this was the man that once survived a terrorists' torture.

"You destroyed me, turned me into a monster. You took me away from him without care or remorse of what would happen. Harm never hurt you and you just took more and more and more. You destroyed me!"

"You… loved...it...the missions...all. Of. it."

Sadly, Webb was right. She _had_ enjoyed some of it, the rush of adrenaline - the people she killed. There was an odd feeling of power to take someone else's life and she'd reveled in it, bathed in blood until Harm forced some of the woman she once was to return. "You're right, I did. And yeah, I liked the rush, not knowing if I would live or die... and now it's over."

His breathing had become laboured so damned much that it hurt to even take a breath. Webb pressed a hand over his heart, clutching the buttoned down shirt as his lungs squeezed and the ache over his chest exploded into something indescribable. His veins were still burning and every inch of his body now cramped and released violently. "They'll... never… let… you… out."

Mac prayed he was wrong, he _had_ to be wrong because she didn't want this anymore. She didn't need it. Glancing down she found him writhing, the sly spy he was once ago had now turned into something so utterly pathetic, less than human. "We'll see… burn in hell, Clayton."

"You bitch…You. Fucking. bitch."

"Sometimes I guess I am." The last thing Mac heard before she closed his door was the sound of his last breath.

* * *

"You killed him?"

"I had to." Mac sighed. She didn't like the look in his eyes or the confusion in his voice. Yes, Webb had been a friend _once_, the instrumental force that brought her and Harm together but, years of assignments and near death experiences turned him cruel. Mac still couldn't imagine that it would lead to his death or the world she was thrust into with a vengeance. Or that one stupid mission to play Webb's wife would culminate in her own death. It was unfair but then she foolishly followed for God and country, she stayed to save Harm. "He wasn't going to let us go. If he succeeded in overthrowing Laughery, I would be his pawn. He'd use you against me. Eventually, he'd try to go after me again."

"I kinda wanted to rip him limb from limb." He dreamt of it actually, the slow torture he would inflict until Webb's very last breath. That type of anger was typically not part of his nature but he would make an exception, for her.

"Sorry you never got your shot."

Chegwidden interrupted the reunion with the clearing of his throat. "Mac...You have to go."

"I know…" She glanced down the floor, sighing heavily before meeting Harm's eyes. They were laced with confusion again and just as much hurt. How many times now had she promised never to leave him and now, she was doing it again. This time it was for good.

"Go, where?"

"I can't be here anymore...It's not safe. I told Laughery I would finish with Webb if she let me out but, there was one condition, I had to disappear."

"Where would you go?"

"Classified. A sort of witness protection I would guess." She shrugged non-committedly and sighed. "I don't want to hurt you but, I needed you to know I was alive...That."

"No." Harm was gutted. There were no other words to explain the intense sorrow at having her leave again especially with how he'd broken down at her funeral and then the sheer joy of finding her alive. "You promised you weren't leaving again… You swore it. Which is why I'm going with you."

Mac stared at him for a moment, mouth slightly agape. She wanted to ask him to join her, to come with and leave Washington behind but, it led with too many sacrifices that she wasn't willing to force onto him. "You'll have to leave everything behind."

"I know."

"JAG, the Navy, friends….your parents." That would likely be the deal breaker and not that she could blame him, the few times she'd met Trish Burnett, Mac had been enamored with the woman. She was cheerful, loving, welcoming, the kind of mother she wished she'd have. "

"Yes."

"They can't know where we are...we can't..._you_ can't say goodbye."

Harm's hand came to the side of her face, pressing gently. It silenced her as did his lips which kissed hers so softly. "Yes. Do whatever you need to do...I'm going with you."

"Your mom will be devastated."

Chegwidden cleared his throat intruding on the couple before him. "Let me take care of that."

Mac frowned. "Harmon Rabb Jr. will die...That's the only way this will work."

"I know." His hands framed her face, forcing Mac to look him in the eye with that intense blue that made her stop fighting him. "Yes, Sarah." 

* * *

And so Harmon Rabb Jr. had also died, his car having wrapped around a tree somewhere in Virginia. Like Mac, he was given a hero's burial at Arlington. It was Chegwidden who would secretly contact Trish and Frank allowing them to know the truth and ease the family's suffering over the loss of their son.

"Not here." Mac said, chuckling as she tried to tie the top of her bikini only to have her husband untie them again. "Harm!"

"Why not?" Harm frowned, she'd slapped his hand away and folded her arms across her chest, covering her breasts. He was still sneaking in kisses, making her giggle when they trailed down to the side of her neck.

"It's the middle of the day, we still have clients to deal with and…"

When she trailed off with a certain timber to her voice, Harm raised his head from her neck and sought out Mac's eyes. "_And_?"

"Annnd… I'm pregnant." She couldn't help the soft smile which spread across her lips and only grew wider when Harm stared at her in shock. "I know we haven't talked about it but…"

"Oh Mac." Harm pulled Mac to him, his wraps wrapping around her in a bear hug that turned into kisses and more kisses. He kissed her lips, her cheeks, her chin and stepped back so that his hand could press against her still flat belly. "How...uh...far along?"

"Four weeks. I wanted to be sure before I told you and I am."

"And the baby? Boy or girl?"

She pressed her hand against his which was still resting on her tummy. Mac figured he was imagining her swollen with his child, the fulfilment of a promise he once made to her so many years ago. "Too soon to tell but, everything is good, so far."

His smile widened. "I don't think I could love you more than I do at this moment."

"You kept your promise."

"Took a little longer than five years but, yeah."

"We like to do things the hard way. I love you, Harm...These last two years...I've never been happier." There had been some bumps to overcome, nightmares which would wake Mac from a dead sleep but, he'd been there for her. Harm was everything she ever wanted and so much more. "So I guess now you're really stuck with me forever. And our little girl."

He raised his brow and that sexy flyboy grin spread across his lips. "You mean our little man."

Mac laughed, the two of them still had that competitive streak, even owning a business the two of them bantered over who got more sales, who escorted more tourists around the island. Her arms wrapped around his neck as she pulled him in for a kiss. "How about happy and healthy, no matter the gender."

"That works for me…. I love you, Sarah. Thank you for coming back for me." He kissed her slowly, deeply, his strong arms holding Mac's body against his own.

This time when the kiss turned passionate and his fingers began to move down her flanks and across the swell of her breasts, Mac let him. THere were no rules or regulations anymore, no chains of commands and no one to tell them what they couldn't do. A little love in the afternoon seemed appropriate after she shared her news. "This is forever, right?"

He rested his forehead against hers. "Yeah Mac, forever."

THE END

….


End file.
